


Partners in (Fighting) Crime

by caramelcaramelcaramel



Series: Partners [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, PeterMJ - Freeform, Slow Burn, Spideychelle, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-15 20:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17535812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelcaramelcaramel/pseuds/caramelcaramelcaramel
Summary: It's senior year. Peter Parker has been Spider-Man for a couple of years. Michelle Jones, however, has only been Spider-Girl for just over a month. She's still learning, and their mentor, Tony Stark, decides the best option is to pair them up. They've got no choice but to be web-slinging partners in crime for the foreseeable future.They'll be lucky if they last a week without killing each other.This story will probably update sporadically.





	1. buddy system

**Author's Note:**

> minor violence warning for this chapter.

“Kid, she’s like you. She’s staying.”

“Michelle and I are nothing alike, sir.”

“You’re both spiderlings. Spiderpeople.”

“She doesn’t even know what she’s doing!”

“She seems to be holding her own quite effectively. If you’re so concerned about her not knowing the ropes, though, you’re free to tutor her.”

“No. _No_. I’m not spending more time with her.”

I could hear Mr. Stark’s sigh from across the workshop. “Just try to get along with her. The last thing I need is a spider fight in the middle of the compound.”

There was a long pause. I swore I could feel Peter’s eyes on me.

“Fine.”

“Good talk, kid.”

I heard Mr. Starks footsteps as they walked out of the workshop, and Peter’s frustrated sigh. And then he was headed over towards me. I was sitting at the bottom of a set of stairs, reading, or at least pretending to while I eavesdropped.

“Michelle,” Peter said. His voice had a different quality to it when he spoke to me. It always dropped in pitch, like he was trying to sound…I don’t know, manly?

I looked up from my book, slowly, eyeing him like he’d interrupted me. He hadn’t. I hadn’t flipped a page in, like, five minutes, but he’d know that if he were more observant than a brick wall.

“Finished it.”

He held out an eye mask.

I put my bookmark (well, the movie stub I used as a bookmark) in my book and snapped it shut, standing up and taking a step towards him.

Another thing I noticed about Peter: I could get close enough that I could feel the discomfort radiating off of him, and he’d always look like he wanted to step back, but he never did. Like this was some kind of pissing contest.

It made it fun for me. I got to watch him squirm without any special effort on my behalf.

“Thanks, Parker,” I said, taking the mask out of his hand. I looked at it, making a show of squinting and scrutinizing it. He was actually quite skilled at this kind of thing. The mask was lightweight, would likely mold to my face effortlessly, and had a tracker and an earpiece. I pushed some hair away from my face and slapped it on. “How do I look?”

He shrugged. “Like a superhero, I guess. Can I get back to work, now?”

I mimicked his shrug, watching annoyance pass over his face as I did. God, he was easy to get a rise out of. “Like a superhero? Come on, Pete.” I lightly shoved his shoulder. “You have a ninety-eight in English, you can do better than that.”

“How do you know what I have in English?”

I smirked. “Lucky guess.”

He scowled. I didn’t know Peter was capable of such a sour expression. “Can I get back to working on your suit now?”

“What, am I holding you hostage?”

He rolled his eyes and walked off. I laughed, satisfied with myself.

He was too easy.

He went back over to my suit. Some of the wires had come loose after a kerfuffle involving three sumo wrestlers, a guy who’d definitely modelled his look after Hans Gruber, a bank vault I’d webbed shut, and Peter’s useless ass.

That wasn’t true. He wasn’t useless. He was clumsy, easily distracted, and not the most-efficient, but he was still better than me. To be fair, he’d been doing this since sophomore year. It was senior year, now, and I’d been doing this for a month, maybe a month and a half.

I started to wander around the workshop, touching things I knew I shouldn’t, just because it pissed off Peter. He’d look up and glare at me every so often, but then he’d just go back to work.

He got really focused. Like, face-barely-above-the-suit, every-muscle-in-his-body-tense type of focused. So, just to be a dick, I said, “So, what’s your deal, Parker?”

He sighed. “Michelle, I’m trying to work.”

“You can talk and pick at the suit with tweezers.” I leaned back against a table, picking up a screwdriver and turning it over in my hands. “What’s your deal?”

He looked up at me, glared hard, and then looked back down. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve gotta focus on this, Michelle.”

“Ooh, is it important?” I teased, finding myself sporting a smug grin.

“Only if you don’t wanna be zapped mid-swing.”

“Kinky.” I put the screwdriver down and walked over next to him, putting my forearms on the table and mirroring his position.

“Can you give me some space?”

“I’m not touching you, Pete. Would you like me to?”

He glared, again. It was a good thing he wore a full-face mask, because he couldn’t be intimidating if he tried. I laughed.

“Back off, Michelle. I just need to get this done so I can go home and finish that stupid biology assignment.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll back off, dumbass.”

I stood up and leaned against the wall behind us, opening the book again.

It took him another half hour to finish up, and when he had, he stood up, tossed me my suit, and started to gather up his stuff.

“Can I catch a ride with you, Peter?” He stopped in his tracks. “I live one building over.”

“I know where you live, Michelle.”

“Ooh, using the suit to keep track of me, are we?”

He clenched his jaw, then released. “No, we used to take the same bus.”

“And then Tony got you a car.”

He clenched his jaw again. I could see the muscles tensing in his face. “Sure. Whatever. I’m leaving.” He picked up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. “I’m not driving you if you’re gonna be all sarcastic and mean the whole time.”

“I’m not being mean, you’re just being over sensitive.”

He crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked at me.

“Okay, that was a little mean. But I could use the ride home. I don’t wanna bug Happy.”

He sighed, looking to the side and readjusting his backpack strap. “Fine. Let’s go. I’m picking the music.”

“Ugh,” I mumbled under my breath, but walked past him, towards the front of the compound.

Once we got in the car and onto the road, I started to poke at a little Yoda bobble-head toy that was on his dashboard. Ned probably got it for Peter.

Peter’s music wasn’t all bad. There were some bops.

Then I noticed how tense he was. I stared at him. His shoulders were so tense, I could almost see the outline of muscle through his sweater.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You have a loud face,” he said.

“A loud face?” I asked. “Way to romance a girl.”

He stared straight a head, clenching his jaw, silent.

“Are you always this tense when you’re driving?”

“No.”

“Then why all the tension? You want a shoulder massage? Because I’ve been told-”

“No, thanks,” he interrupted. “I’m fine.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring out the window. “Sheesh. You know, you’re really cold, Parker. That’s why you have, like, one friend.”

“I’m not cold.”

“Really? Because the air is about five degrees colder around you. Constantly. I don’t think you’ve smiled at me since sophomore year.”

“That’s because you’re the worst.”

“Worse than Flash?” I asked, turning to him and raising an eyebrow. He didn’t turn his head to look at me, but I knew he could see me.

“Fine. Second worst. But that’s only because you’d have to try to murder me to top Flash,” Peter admitted.

“Noted,” I said with a smirk.

It fell quiet again.

It was weird. A couple years ago, I thought we could’ve been friends. Ned had certainly warmed up to me, and he and I were pretty friendly with each other, now. But I teased Peter once and he took it the wrong way, and somehow this had become our dynamic.

We finally stopped in front of my building.

“Thanks for the ride, buttercup,” I said, opening the door.

“Don’t call me buttercup.”

I grinned. “Fine. Thanks for the ride Sp-”

He slapped a hand over my mouth, his eyes wider than I thought possible.

I licked his hand, and he pulled it away instantly, rubbing it on his jeans and making a face. I laughed, picking up my backpack from between my feet. “See you tomorrow, buttercup.”

He gave me one last scowl as I got out of the door and closed the door. He drove off, and I went into my building.

Once I was up in my apartment, I beelined for my bedroom. I didn’t wanna deal with my family.

“Whatcha doing home so late, Shelly?” Mom asked before I could open my bedroom door.

“I was at the base. Internship stuff.”

“You missed dinner. Leftovers are in the fridge if you want some later.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it, thanks Mom.”

I disappeared into my room, closing and locking the door behind me, then pulled my suit out of my bag and changed into it. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of my face, and then slapped on the mask that Peter had finished making.

Before the mask, I’d been using a scarf to hide my face. But this certainly made life easier. I didn’t like having my mouth covered, anyways.

I took a second to look in the mirror. The suit was white and wine red, and went perfectly with a pair of shoes I’d gotten for Christmas last year. I knew I didn’t need to wear sneakers with the suit, but I didn’t have anything in my normal everyday closet that went with bright red sneakers. Besides, the suit was super thin, and I didn’t like feeling every pebble under my feet. I was killing two birds with one stone.

Also, not to toot my own horn, but the suit made me look…kinda hot.

I didn’t normally like dressing myself up to look “hot”. I didn’t like the way guys would look at me, I didn’t like getting catcalled, I didn’t like how it didn’t feel like me. I preferred my layers and my messy hair and the paint stains on everything I owned.

But Spider-Girl and Michelle Jones were two separate entities, at least to the world. So, I allowed myself to feel hot, because this wasn’t me. It was deliberately not me.

I climbed out the window and scaled the side of the building. I stood up on the rooftop and looked out over the city. There was that evening glow to the city. The sky was a darker shade of blue, the lights were starting to stand out, it was beautiful.

I dove off the roof, starting to swing from one building to the next. The air was cool and refreshing against my face. I could hear the buzz of city life under me. This feeling, right here, felt like absolute freedom.

Maybe it was because I was a vigilante. Maybe it was because the only person I answered to was Tony Stark. Maybe it was because in this moment, I felt powerful and alone, like maybe I was the only girl in the world.

It didn’t matter why. I just felt free.

I started to swing lower, until I could stretch a leg out to graze the top of cars with my foot. I didn’t, because I’d tried that before and it was a bad idea.

I could hear people calling out to me, over the rush of cars whizzing past. I looked over and waved at a couple kids calling, “Spider-Girl! Spider-Girl!”

Eventually, I ran out of breath. I stopped on a rooftop to catch my breath, only to hear something in the alley below.

“Give me your money.”

“Sir, I-”

“You like your face where it is? Or would you like me to shoot it off?”

I jumped down between the buildings into the alleyway.

“Hi, I feel like maybe you need to learn a lesson about consent,” I said, shooting the mugger up with webbing. “When you ask someone for their money, and they say no, and you hold a gun to their face and ask again, you’re robbing them. And also being a giant asshole.”

He’d dropped the gun as I’d webbed him up. I picked it up.

“Is this thing registered?”

“Go to hell,” the mugger shot back.

I turned to the lady he’d been robbing. “Normally, when people say that, it means ‘no’. At least, in my very limited experience.” I cracked the barrel off of the gun, and dropped both pieces at his feet. “You alright, ma’am?” I asked.

“Yes, yes, thank you!” she said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.

“Have a nice evening, then.” I webbed the bad guy to a dumpster. “Just so you know, this stuff takes a couple hours to dissolve, so you’ve got some time to think about your behavior. Also, try not to think about water, or having to pee, or anything like that. This city already smells like piss constantly.”

Lifting one arm, I shot a web to a building across the street, and shot off.

Sometimes, I didn’t know how I’d survived before I had these powers. I didn’t know how other people survived now. I had super strength and I still couldn’t open pickle jars on the first try, I had accelerated healing and paper cuts still seemed to stick around too long, I had super hearing and yet I still couldn’t quite decipher some of the shit said behind my back.

Maybe I was just becoming my dad. Never satisfied.

But, in all seriousness, having this kind of power felt innate to me now, like I’d always had it. I couldn’t imagine living without it. I couldn’t tell you how many times my sticky fingers had saved my phone, or my life.

I spotted a kid trying to rob an ATM, so I snuck up behind him and tapped his shoulder.

He spun around, surprised, and immediately went for a punch in the face. I grabbed his wrist and twisted. He groaned, loudly, his face screwing up in pain.

“Listen, kid, I’m only gonna tell you once. Don’t rob ATMs, and don’t try to punch a girl in the face.”

“God, I hate New York,” he griped. He tried to hit me with his other hand, but I webbed him to the ATM.

“You seem like a stand up guy,” I deadpanned, released his wrist to web up even more. “Really respectful, hard-working-”

“Why are all you superheroes so snarky?”

I webbed his mouth shut. “I don’t know, it’s weird when it’s quiet. Anyways, sit tight, I gotta blast. Crime doesn’t stop, you know.”

He rolled his eyes and I kept going.

It was kind of a shame that Queens had the lowest crime rates of the New York boroughs. I could use a little more action.

I ended up sitting on a rooftop, playing with my watch. Mr. Stark had made me a smart watch I could use to get information through my ear piece. I tuned it into police radios, hoping a got more off of that than just wandering around the city.

The first few codes were things like ambulances, fires, all of it seemed under control. And then there was a 10-21.

Burglary.

There was a 10-54, too. Ambulance request. Someone was hurt.

They repeated the address, and off I went.

It was across Queens, so it was quite the trek. I could hear the ambulance as I got close, too.

It was easy to figure out which apartment was being burgled. A window was smashed, and I could hear crying coming from inside.

I zipped on over to the fire escape, and climbed in through the broken window.

It was quiet inside, save for the sirens downstairs, and the crying down the hall. The lights were off, and it smelled like…fresh cookies.

Someone had definitely baked before the burglary.

“Shut up! Shut up and tell me where the jewelry is before I shoot you!”

There was pounding at the door.

_THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!_ “Police! Open up!”

“Look what you’ve done. I should’ve shot you when I had the chance. Brat.”

“Please, please, don’t.”

_THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!_ “Police! Open up!”

I crept down the hall, following the sound of crying and the hushed threats.

I could do this, I could do this, I could do this.

The door to one room was open, light streaming out of it into the hallway. I could see the burglar’s shadow, waving a gun as he ranted angrily at the crying girl. I could smell the fear wafting off of both of them.

_THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!_ “Police! Open up! Now!”

“You want me to leave you the way I left your daddy in the stairwell?”

Oh my god.

The girl was choking on her own sobs, unable to breathe.

He’d killed her father. He’d-

I lost it. I barged in, already shooting webs at him. He shot in my direction, and hot pain exploded under my ribs. I shot a few more webs at him, and then hurried out, shooting webbing onto my own wound before I kept going. I could not afford blood to drip onto the floor. I couldn’t risk exposure.

I jumped out the broken window, barely grasping at the railing to steady myself. I was shaking. God, it hurt.

Quickly, I swung over a couple rooftops, and laid down.

Everything was spinning. I was bleeding through the webbing and my suit. Was I dying? I couldn’t be dying.

I lifted my left arm, which seemed a million times heavier now, and sent out a distress signal on my watch. With any luck, Mr. Stark wasn’t out on a date with Peter’s aunt, ignoring all notifications.

I let my arm fall to the side and stared up at the sky.

It was a real shame we didn’t get to see the stars in the city. I imagined it’d be beautiful.

Black started to creep at the corners of my vision. I couldn’t pass out, that’d be bad. You can’t lose consciousness when you’re bleeding this much.

“Michelle?”

The voice came through on my ear piece.

“Hey,” I said back, my voice sounding like I was drunk. I was definitely dizzy and woozy. Who needs alcohol when you have acute blood loss?

“Michelle, it’s Peter. Parker. You sent a distress signal.”

“Shit, you get those, too?”

“What’s going on?”

I glanced down at my wound. Blood was spreading, staining the fabric of the suit.

“Parker, how easy is it to get blood stains out of the suit? I’m asking for a friend.”

“Michelle, I’m on my way.”

I laughed. “Still spying on me, stalker?”

“When you send a distress signal, it sends a location pin. I’ll be there in a minute, hold tight. You sound like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I’m not gonna- I could totally take myself home right now, easy peasy lemon squeezy. ‘M just a little…dizzy, that’s all. I can wait for Mr. Stark.”

“No, you definitely can’t. You know the suit reads your vitals, right?”

“That’s neat,” I remarked. How was that relevant?

“Your heart rate is dropping, your breathing is slow, your blood pressure is dropping- Michelle, what happened?”

“Uh, there was this burglary-”

“Keep talking, I’ll be there soon.”

“-and the guy had killed this girl’s dad, she sounded like she must’ve been six or seven, and he was threatening to shoot here…it was all over some jewelry, I think.”

My vision was dark. I closed my eyes.

“Michelle? Keep talking.”

“He…shot me? It really hurts, too, is that supposed to happen? I thought you were supposed to just…go into shock. Or something.”

“Where did he shoot you?”

“Uh, my stomach. Under my ribs.”

“Which side? Left or right?”

I had to take a second to remember which side was left and which side was right.

“Michelle?”

“Right. Right side.”

“Okay, hopefully it didn’t hit your liver.”

I parted my lips, breathing in the cool air. It felt good on my throat.

“Michelle, keep talking.”

I groaned in response.

“Michelle.”

His voice sounded faint, now.

The next thing I remember is feeling his fingers on my neck. I blinked my eyes open, squinting to focus.

“Michelle, we gotta get you to the compound.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“You- I- just trust me.”

He started to lift me, and I shouted in pain. “Stop!”

“Michelle, it’s gonna hurt, I just need you to let me lift you.”

He scooped his arms under me, one under my back, one under my knees and lifted me. I cried out again, turning my face away from him.

The last thing I needed was him to see me like this. Why couldn’t Mr. Stark have gotten my distress signal first?

“Michelle- Michelle, I need you to hold onto me. I can’t get us off this roof if you don’t.”

I was panting, hard, squeezing my eyes shut and trying not to think about the white-hot pain coming from under my ribs.

“Okay, okay, I can do that.”

Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, whimpering a little.

God, I hated myself right now. Since when did I whimper?

He held me tight with one arm, the one under my knees, and pulled the other away to shoot a web and get us down from the top of the building. I bit my lip to keep from crying out at the pain again. Once we were on the ground, he broke out into a run.

“Move! Move! I need to- guys, I can’t swing over you while I’m carrying another human being, I need you to move out of my way!” Peter’s voice was pitching up as he started to panic. I bit my lip harder. Every step was a jolt through my body, shooting pain through my midsection.

Thankfully, our buildings were only a couple blocks away. He ran into his building, then down the stairs into the parking garage.

“Michelle, you’re still awake, right?”

I couldn’t answer. If I opened my mouth, I’d shout again, and I didn’t wanna do that. I squeezed his shoulder in response, instead.

“Good. That’s good.”

He opened the passenger side door and helped me in, then got in the other side.

“Where are we going?” I asked, once the pain had died down a bit.

“The base.”

“That’s an hour away. Just take me to a hospital.”

“And risk them taking a blood test? Mr. Stark has a whole medical wing at the compound, you’ll be perfectly safe there.”

He pulled out of his spot and we left the parking garage.

“I’ll speed, okay? You’re not bleeding out on me.”

That wasn’t a comforting thought, but I let it slide.

I lifted my watch and called my brother, Jordan.

He answered on the third ring.

“Why are you calling me, you’re right down the hall.”

“No, I’m not. I’m in Peter’s car. I need you to cover me tonight.”

“I’m not covering for you while you’re having car sex with your intern friend.”

“It’s intern business, Jordan. I’ll buy you lunch all week next week, okay? Please?”

He paused. “Lunch all week and you drive me and my girlfriend to and from the movies on Saturday.”

“Fine, fine, whatever you need. Deal?”

“Deal. You’re covered. Scout’s honour.”

The line went dead. I let my head fall back with a sigh.

“Who was that?” Peter asked.

“What, you care about my personal life right now?”

“I’m just curious who you’re buying lunch for.”

“Jealous, Parker?”

“No, no, just- do you have siblings?”

“Yeah. Three of them. All younger.”

“Oh.”

It was silent for a while. Peter was focused on getting us out of the city. I was focused on not bleeding out. If I was gonna die, I wasn’t gonna do it in Peter Parker’s front seat. I had self-respect.

“Hey, has it occurred to you that we’re both in our suits, driving your car?”

“Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious,” Peter snapped.

“No, I mean…someone could trace the license plate back to you. As in Peter Parker. And if they see Spider-Man driving it-”

“I could say I loaned the car to Spider-Man as a friend.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

We hit a pothole, and I cried out, then bit my lip, scolding myself internally.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, I couldn’t avoid it.”

I didn’t say anything, just tipped my head back against the head rest and squeezed my eyes shut. Holy fuck, this was painful.

I started to taste blood in my mouth, and realized I’d started to bite through my lip. I let go.

“Do you- do you have something in here I can bite onto?” I asked, clenching my fists and digging my nails into my palms to distract myself.

“Uh, check in my glovebox.”

I pulled it open. There was all the normal stuff in here, vehicle manual, insurance. At the very back, there was a watermelon-shaped squeaky toy.

“Seriously, Parker?”

“Hey, it’s what I could find.”

I shoved the stupid thing between my teeth. Every time we hit a bump in the road, I bit down, and it squeaked. I hated it. But it was better than biting down on my lip.

We managed to make it to the base in just over half an hour. Peter parked the car out front and came around to my side of the car to pick me up.

“Come on, the sooner we get this done, the sooner they’ll pump you up with painkillers and this’ll all be over.”

The watermelon toy squeaked like crazy as Peter pulled me out of the car, carrying me bridal-style into the compound.

The second someone saw us, there was a team of doctors and nurses running towards us. I closed my eyes as Peter started to run with them to the medical wing. All I could hear was the stupid squeaky sound. Eventually, I got fed up with it and pulled it out of my mouth.

“Michelle-”

“Shut it, Parker, I’m not in the mood,” I said through gritted teeth.

He finally laid me down on a hospital bed, and then I handed the toy back to him.

“Take the stupid thing.”

He stared at me for a moment before taking it out of my hand gingerly. He reached over and took the eye mask off of me, too, putting it on a table nearby. Then he got pushed away by the doctors and nurses.

They started an IV, and soon after that, I passed out.

***

I woke up a few hours later, wearing a hospital gown instead of the suit. I looked around. Peter was sitting in a chair on the opposite end of the room. I sat up in the bed. There was a dull ache on the right side of my stomach, but it was bearable. I’d had worse cramps.

“Mr. Stark is working on your suit. He told me to keep an eye on you.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“He, um, also told me to tell you that they removed the bullet and you should be completely healed up within a couple days, at least, if you and I have the same healing rate.”

I looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?” I asked, tilting my head.

He glanced down. “Twice. The first time was fighting off one of Liz’s dad’s friends. The second time was with Mr. Stark. He wasn’t in the suit, and he got shot at, and I- yeah.”

“So…this is something I should probably get used to, huh?”

“Maybe.”

He fell quiet. I laid back down, turning onto my side.

“Thanks, Parker.”

“Yeah, anytime.”

I closed my eyes, drifting off again.

***

I woke up again a few hours later. Peter was still sitting in the chair, but now he was doing homework.

“Shit, what time is it?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

“It’s six.”

“We gotta get to school.”

He laughed. “You sound like me. Mr. Stark called in for us, we’re out for the day.”

I frowned. “We’ll fall behind.”

“I texted Ned, he’s getting the notes for us.”

I sighed, relaxing a bit.

“How-how do you feel?” Peter asked, somewhat hesitantly.

I rolled my eyes. “Like I’ve been shot, Parker.”

“Geez, okay.”

It was completely quiet in the room for a few seconds, then Mr. Stark came in, my suit draped over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” He sounded kind of groggy.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“MJ, how are you doing?” Mr. Stark asked, looking at my charts.

“I feel kinda gross. And I’m craving waffles, for some reason. But overall, not bad. I’ve had worse morning-afters.”

He chuckled at that. “Haven’t we all?” He put my charts down and pulled a chair up next to the bed. “I’m sure Peter gave you the four-one-one.”

“Yep.”

“And here’s your suit. Good as new. Try not to get shot in it.” He took the suit off his shoulder and folded it up, placing it at the foot of my bed.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Now, you two aren’t going to like this, but I think you should patrol together.”

Peter and I were both already starting to protest when Mr. Stark hushed us.

“It’s temporary, and it’s just until MJ gets a little more confident.”

“I’m plenty confident!” I protested.

“See? She doesn’t need my help!”

“Maybe some quality time together will help you two bond, so I don’t have to listen to you bicker like an old married couple all time. I’m too old for this shit.”

I rolled my eyes. “With all due respect, Mr. Stark, I’d rather get shot again.”

“You might, if you go out alone. I’m trying to keep the mortality rate of my interns at zero, so you two are paired up.”

“But I-”

“FRIDAY?” Mr. Stark asked. “Any time their suits are active and they’re not within, oh, a block and a half of each other, can you let me know?”

“Absolutely, sir,” came the disembodied voice. I still wasn’t used to that.

“There we go. It’s done.”

“Mr. Stark, I-”

“Peter, she’d incredibly hard to reprogram, so that’s sticking until I know MJ’s safe out there. Got it?”

Peter gave me a disdainful look. “Got it.”

“Good. You kids have fun together today.”

“Wait, all day?” Peter asked, eyes going wide. He followed Mr. Stark out of the room, and I could hear his protests the whole time. Eventually, he sulked back into the room, pouting as he sat down.

“Lovely to see you, too, Parker.”

“Don’t- Michelle, I don’t wanna be here all day if you’re gonna be all snarky and rude.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.”

He scowled. I grinned.

“Whatever, I’m just trying to get work done, so don’t distract me.”

“Why? Do you find me _distracting_ , Peter?” I asked, dropping my voice all low and sultry.

“God, shut up!”

“Make me.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds. I wondered how long he could take this before looking away.

The answer was about twelve seconds. Then he looked back down.

“You’re really competing against Flash for that top spot, aren’t you?” he mumbled.

“That’s about the most fun you can have with a gunshot wound in your stomach,” I shot back.

The day passed achingly slow. Occasionally, a nurse would come in and check on me. But other than that, all I had was Peter and the TV in the corner of the room.

Daytime TV was such trash. There was nothing interesting on. Nothing at all.

“I wish I hadn’t left my phone at home,” I complained. “I’m gonna lose my streaks.”

“You don’t talk to anyone, how many streaks could you possibly have?”

“I have, like, thirty-ish.”

Peter blinked. “No way.”

I reached out my hand. “Give me your phone, I’ll log into my snapchat and show you.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh, I don’t trust you.”

“You’re the one who’s challenging me on this. Hand it over.”

He sighed, pulling it out, unlocking it, logging out of his snapchat, and handing it over. “No funny business.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Who knows what kinda shit you’ve got on this thing?”

He rolled his eyes. I punched in my username and password, then showed him my screen.

“These are all guys.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve got Liz and Cindy and Betty on here.”

“Why do you have so many guys on your snapchat?” he asked.

“Jealous?” I teased.

“No, just…curious.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I like having options.”

“Options for…?”

I took a picture of the ceiling and wrote “streaks” across the screen, then started sending that out.

“Oh, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

I sighed. “God, you’re dense. They’re hookups, Peter.”

He gawked at me. I finished sending out the streaks and logged out, handing the phone back to him.

“You seem shocked.”

“You just…don’t seem like that type of girl. You usually just keep to yourself.”

“To be fair, I’ve only actually hooked up with two of them. The rest are backups.”

Peter frowned. “Do you even know their names?”

“Yeah, duh. I don’t know who you think I am. I can remember a couple of names.”

“Who-who were they?”

“Yeah, you’re doing a great job of not coming off as jealous right now.”

“It’s just, like, morbid curiosity.”

“This guy Miles, who lives in Brooklyn, and, uh, this guy Nick. He works for the newspaper Betty works for.”

Peter nodded, still looking confused.

“You know, you could probably do the same with the girls at our school. Just, like, stop dressing like a nerd and, I don’t know, look a little more confident.”

“What- I don’t wanna- hold on, you really think I could?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, Peter. If you took off your shirt, like, once in front of the girls at our school, they’d all be scrambling for your snap.”

He flushed, looking away. “That’s not-”

He looked back at me, and I held eye contact.

To be fair, I wasn’t wrong. He and I trained together here on Sundays. I’d seen him in a shirt soaked through in sweat, sticking to every inch of his skin. He had a great body. Hell, if I had never spoken a word to him a day in my life and, therefore, was unaware of what an insufferable, stupid dork he was, maybe I’d be scrambling for his snap.

***

A couple hours later, I was discharged. Mr. Stark gave me a white shirt and grey sweats to wear home, and a reusable grocery bag to carry the suit in. Peter drove us home, letting me pick the music this time.

I took this as an opportunity to introduce him to some good music. Stuff like The Lumineers, Hozier, Leon Thomas, The 1975. He wouldn’t say anything about the music, but I caught him bobbing his head along, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat, genuinely enjoying the music.

When he dropped my off in front of my house, I sent him screenshots of my playlist, without any explanation. He read the message and didn’t respond.

I figured he was probably taking notes, even if he didn’t wanna admit it.


	2. patrolling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note: peter's angrier in this fic than he's normally depicted bc he's #traumatized but we'll get to that later ;)

_One week later…_

Alright, if I had to be within a block of Peter at all times while we were patrolling, I was gonna make it worth it.

I pulled the suit on, slapped on my mask, and jumped from my fire escape onto Peter’s.

Boy, him having the window right across from mine was perfect.

I knocked on his window. He opened the blinds and yanked the window open. I leaned in, splaying my hands out over the window sill.

“Put on the mask, I’m ready to go.”

“Alright, alright. You’re awfully eager.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of pent up energy. Let’s _go,_ before I explode or something.”

He sighed, pulling on the mask. “May, I’ll be back in a couple hours!”

“See you, honey!”

He climbed out, closing the window behind him.

“Have you told anyone in your family?”

I swallowed. “I told one of my brothers. Jordan. I figured it was the only way I could get him to cover for me without blowing all my savings on his lunches.”

“Smart,” he said shortly.

And we were off.

He was distant and quiet and easily annoyed. All it took was a gentle shove and I could see his jaw clench.

The hours went by slowly. Nobody committed crime until the sun started to go down, and Peter would barely acknowledge me.

We got to stop one (1) grand theft auto in the first three hours. I, surprisingly, had done pretty well. I’d webbed up the bad guy and stopped the car alarm. Peter had taken one hit right at the beginning, then stood off to the side while I took care of it.

“You know, buttercup, you’re more than just a pretty face. Besides, your face is hidden under that mask.”

“You had it handled.”

“Isn’t your job to help me?” I spat back.

“No, my job is to be the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, not your babysitter!”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him.

“Whatever. Let’s keep going.”

He shot webs out with both hands, launching himself off. I turned to the guy we’d (correction: I’d) just webbed up.

“That time of the month, I guess.”

Then I followed Peter, because I didn’t wanna deal with FRIDAY alerting Mr. Stark of us being too far apart.

He was going fast, making it difficult to catch up, because that meant I had to go faster than him. Eventually, I got fed up, and shot him in the back with a web, stopping him cold.

“What the hell?!” he yelped.

I caught up. “You were going top fast,” I panted. I let go, the web falling away.

“Don’t stop me like that.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

His suit eyes squinted at me. I held eye contact.

He looked away first. As per usual.

“Let’s keep going.”

He shot off again, but I kept up this time, as much as my muscles burned. Also, it was a wonder I hadn’t pulled a muscle yet.

After about twenty minutes of just swinging around the city, he sat down on the edge of a rooftop. I paced around on the rooftop, behind him. If I sat down, I’d be too tired to get back up.

“You’re being a bit of a bitch today,” I told him.

“I don’t like being slowed down,” he snapped.

Ouch. Peter Parker wasn’t afraid to bare his teeth, I guess.

After a few minutes, he stood up and walked over.

“Do you wanna call it a day. It’s been three hours and nothing’s really happened, and you’re probably tired.”

“I’m probably tired?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms.

“Yeah, you were shot a week ago, remember? It takes energy to heal something like that, especially within a few days.” He was being very matter-of-fact with me, hiding any and all emotion with a monotone delivery.

“Sure. But,” I said, “we’re getting dinner.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. We’re getting hot dogs, because I have a craving, and I’m subjecting you to it.”

Peter sighed, defeated. “Alright.”

We swung over to the hot dog place near our apartments.

“Hey, I’m not gonna get anything. I don’t have my wallet.”

“I’ll pay.” I turned, walking backwards.

“You-”

“You’ll find a way to repay me,” I said with a wink, turning back around and heading into the restaurant. I ignored the stares we got and ordered us two hot dogs and two waters, paid with the tap feature on my watch, collected our food, and walked out. Peter was right behind me.

We went up to my fire escape and sat on the stairs. I handed him his hot dog and water, and watched him pull the mask up to expose his mouth and nose.

“You know, if you just didn’t wear a full face mask, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“It’s safer. And I have Karen, and a head’s up display. I like it.”

“I’d feel so claustrophobic. I can’t handle not having any real air. And doesn’t it get, like, humid in there, with all the heavy breathing?”

He shrugged, unwrapping his hot dog and taking a bite.

“I couldn’t do it.”

I took a bite of my hot dog. It was warm, cheesy, the sausage was just juicy enough. I moaned a little as I chewed.

Peter’s head snapped towards me, then he seemed to brush it off and go back to his hot dog.

We sat there, in silence until we were both done. I took his wrapper, balled it up with mine, pulled my window open, and tossed the wrappers towards my trash can. The foil ball hit the wall and bounced in. Nice.

“Thanks for the hot dog,” Peter said, closing his water bottle and pulling the mask back down over his face.

“Yeah, no problem. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” His tone was still cold, but better than it had been earlier.

He disappeared into his room, the blinds closing behind him. I crawled into mine, closing the window. I took off the suit and mask and stashed them in my closet, then went and hung out with my siblings a bit before bed.

***

This time, he was knocking on my window. I was running behind and I knew it. I’d gotten an 80 on a chemistry test today, which brought my mark down a whole bunch, which brought my weighted average down, too. It seemed like it was throwing me off more than I thought.

I opened the window as I put the mask on.

“Hey, are you ready-”

I climbed out, heading past him and jumping off the escape. I needed to blow off some steam. It was one bad grade, and it was only halfway through the semester. I had plenty of time to pull this up.

Again, it was slow. We were helping the elderly cross the street and finding lost wallets. That was about it.

I had my earpiece tuned into police frequencies, but nothing was out of hand today. The police were handling everything in an orderly fashion, which was good for them, but bad for my pent-up frustration.

I needed to do something. I needed adrenaline and a pounding heart. I needed a reminder that I wasn’t a waste of space.

“You’re quiet today,” Peter remarked, maybe two hours into our outing.

I didn’t say anything. He wasn’t wrong. I just felt kind of out of it. I was normally pretty good at chemistry, why did I do so badly on the test?

“Alright, I take it you’re mad at me.”

“No.”

“No, you’re not mad at me?”

“Not everything’s about you, buttercup.”

I listened to the radio chatter. Nothing important.

“Why are you so bent out of shape?” he pressed.

“I’m not in the mood.”

After a few more minutes of silence, I heard the sentence, “10-66 on the Manhattan Bridge.”

I hit Peter’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Manhattan Bridge, let’s go.”

“What?”

“10-66. Unusual traffic incident. Let’s go.”

We weren’t too far away, so we swung over as fast as we could.

There was a crash involving a whole bunch of cars. Some of them looked likely to blow.

“You cover the far side, I’ll cover this side,” I told him, swooping down low. Police were having a hard time getting to some of the cars closer to the centre. People were having a hard time getting out of their cars.

I dropped down, starting to look through cars for people struggling to get out. The first I spotted was a few teenagers in a car, probably juniors. They were locked in a denser part of the area, all four doors pinned shut by other cars. They had a window cracked, but the door was badly dented, so they probably couldn’t roll it down enough to get out. It did, however, mean I could speak to them.

“Hey, guys, want a hand?”

There were three of them. One guy, two girls. The guy said, “No, we’ve got this handled.”

The girls looked at me pleadingly.

“Cover your faces,” I instructing, kicking the window. It shattered, easily. I kicked the last couple pieces out. “Come on, I’ve got you.”

I helped them out of the car.

“Go, run, a couple of these might start to blow.”

The girls nodded and started to run. The guy shook his head at me.

“You think you’re so smart.”

I shrugged. “I like to think so.”

“None of these are gonna blow up. It’s just a pile up.”

“An unusually large pile up,” I remarked. “What is this, fifty cars?”

He scoffed, walking away.

Peter’s voice came through on my earpiece. “I’d work faster if I were you. One of the cars on my side is smoking.”

“Alright, got it.”

I kept going, finding people, smashing windows, as fast as I could. I’d gotten maybe twenty when I heard a loud _bang_.

I turned to see a car, up in flames.

Peter was carrying a kid on his back away from the fire, setting him down with what looked like his parents.

We kept going, working through, making sure everyone was safe.

Two more cars blew up before we were done. Luckily, by that point, those cars and the neighbouring ones were clear.

“What do you think caused this?” Peter asked when he caught up to me.

I shrugged. “The police will figure that out.”

Rescuing people had taken my mind of the test grade for a while. But once we were headed back to our buildings, the thought crept back into my brain. God, my parents were gonna be pissed.

Peter stopped me when we landed on his rooftop.

“Okay, what’s up? You’ve been unusually quiet today.”

“It’s nothing, okay. Drop it. Goodnight-”

He webbed me, the string still connected to his shooter, so I couldn’t get down.

“Peter, I will punch you. Let me go.”

“I taught you everything you know. Besides, you should talk about what’s bugging you. Communication is healthy.”

“It’s stupid.”

He hesitated, suit-eyes squinting at me. “What’d you get on the chemistry test?”

I felt my eyes go wide, and that’s how he knew he’d guessed right.

“Ha! That’s what’s bugging you! Did you fail?”

“No.”

“What’d you get.”

“It’s not your business, _buttercup_.”

He yanked his wrist back, pulling me a few steps closer. I huffed.

“Eighty.”

“You got an eighty? That’s good!”

I crossed my arms. “I’m gonna go inside and get my ass whooped over it. It’s terrible.”

“That’s a B.”

“Exactly. It’s a straight-A type of household, Peter. Will you let me go?”

“No, hold up. Is that seriously what you’re so upset about?”

“Yes! That’s it! I got a B on a test and I’m being a big baby about it. You win, Parker. Let me go.”

“It’s not that bad, Michelle-”

I laughed. “Are you serious? I go home and give my parents a test with a ninety-six on it, and you know what they say? ‘What happened to the other four percent?’ That’s what I’ve gotta deal with. Nothing below a ninety is acceptable. They might as well disown me over this.”

“Hey, now, it was a hard test-”

“They don’t care! You’ve got no idea what my home life is like, Peter, so piss off and let me go.”

“Michelle-”

“Christ, Peter, I’ll hit you. I’m serious.”

“No, listen to me for a second. It’s just a mark.”

I laughed, bitter. “I’m not eating tonight over this. Or tomorrow night. Maybe not even the next night. It doesn’t matter what you think, Parker, that’s not how they think. They think the only thing worthy of any kind of validation is perfect score. That’s what I’ve gotta be. Perfect. I’m just a grade to them.”

“No, you’re not, Michelle. They’re your parents. They love you.”

I huffed. “Do you remember the Washington Monument incident? How your aunt came and picked you up? How everyone’s families were there?”

He stared at me. “You were alone when I left.”

“Yeah. They didn’t even care that I’d given the winning answer that day. They barely heard me out. You know nothing about my life, Peter, so fuck right off and let me the fuck go before I taser-web you.”

He hesitated, so I lifted my hand as a warning.

He let go.

“Thanks, asshat.”

Jumped down from the rooftop of his building to the fire escape on mine, landing one level above my window. I ran down the steps, and started to climb into my room.

“Michelle,” Peter said, swinging down onto the fire escape. “Text me if you need food?”

I glared at him for a moment, then went inside and closed the window.

I changed, then picked the test up off my desk and went into the kitchen.

They yelled for forty minutes, then sent me to bed without dinner.

When I went back to my room, I checked my phone. I had a few snaps, and one test.

_Spider-Dork: check outside your window_

I looked over and saw a little Chinese take-out box with a pair of chopsticks on top.

I sat by the window, eating, hoping to catch a glimpse of Peter through his window so I could wave and show him I was eating.

His blinds stayed closed all night.

I stuck a post-it note to his locker the next morning with “thanks, buttercup” written on it, and a doodle of fried rice.

***

The knock at my window woke me up. Spooked, I rolled off my bed and hit the floor with a thud. I groaned, then got up and went to the window. Peter was standing out on the fire escape, suited up.

I pulled open the window. “Hi, I’m-I’m sorry, I fell asleep when I got home-”

“Yeah, it’s fine. How was the fried rice?”

I gave him a half-smile. “Still warm when I got to it. Give me, um, two minutes. I’ll get changed and I’ll be right out.”

“Sure.”

I closed the window and blinds, changed as fast as I could, and then climbed back out onto the fire escape.

“Hi, okay, I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? You still look half-asleep, Michelle.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’m up. Let’s go.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt again,” Peter said. “You can go in and go back to sleep, I’ll patrol alone.”

“No, I’m fine.”

I jumped off the fire escape and shot a web out, swinging away. Peter followed close behind.

Nothing happened. We were out for four hours and nothing happened. We kept having to stop, too. I hadn’t eaten much or slept much. My muscles burned and my eyes burned and my ribs burned. My metabolism moved too fast and I couldn’t keep up. I was falling behind.

“Dude- dude, slow down!” I shouted ahead to him. He stopped and turned.

“Hey, you good?”

I sat down on the nearest rooftop. “It feels like my lungs are gonna fall out of my chest.”

“Okay, we’re done.”

“Peter-”

“Nope, we’ve been out for…four hours, and you look like you need sleep. And food.”

“Fine, then. Let’s head back.”

We had to stop every four blocks so I could catch my breath. God, every muscle in my body felt like it was on fire.

“Seriously, Michelle, you need to eat something.”

“I’m fine, you can stop pretending you care about me more than you care about getting home quickly.”

He stopped cold. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t get more than a block ahead of me, unless you want Stark on your ass. That’s your only motivation to stop when I do.”

“I’m sorry, who came and got you when you were bleeding out on the other end of Queens?”

“Who complained about having to sit with me in the medical wing?” I shot back.

“Because you’re constantly mean to me! I try to get along with you, for Mr. Stark’s sake, but you’re-you’re awful to me!” His voice pitched up, like when he was arguing with Mr. Stark.

“I’m not awful to you. I teased you, once, in sophomore year, and you took it the wrong way, and you’ve never let me even try to be friends with you. This is exactly what you wanted, _buttercup_. You made your bed, and now you’ve gotta lay in it.”

“That’s not- that’s not even close to- you’re- you won’t take responsibility! You make fun of me and mock me- you’re just as bad as Flash- how is any of that on me?”

I stepped closer to him. He either had to step out of the way, hold his ground, or step backwards off a building. His choice. “I genuinely think the only kind thing you’ve ever done for me was the fried rice last night. You talk shit about how I’m so awful to you when you’re colder than ice with me. You refuse to let me sit with you and Ned at lunch, like Ned’s just your friend and you have complete ownership-”

“You used to sit with us all the time!”

“Yeah, before you started glaring at me every time I came close! Like, what, are you in love with Ned or something?”

“I- what? Michelle, you’re- you won’t even let me call you MJ!”

“Because we’re not friends, Peter, you’ve made damn sure of that.” I stepped closer, until we were nose-to-nose.

“How am I the one who started this whole thing?” He was floundering now. I had him cornered, in more ways than one.

“You’re cold. You’d see me sitting alone and just look at me, like everyone else does. You try to tell Mr. Stark that I don’t belong in the internship program-”

“Hey, I don’t-”

“You can’t see how that reads, can you?”

“Michelle-”

“No, it’s alienating. You’re an asshole to me, okay? Constantly. And you-you think you’re entitled to your internship with Mr. Stark and-and you think you’re better than me because-”

“I’m the one with a superiority complex?” he snapped. “You’d rather sit alone with some book about, uh, feminism or-or the patriarchy than talk to anyone! You think carrying around poetry books makes you more cultured or educated or something! You drive me crazy!”

“That is not at all what I think! But you-you wouldn’t know because why would you ever think to ask me what I think?”

“Okay, then. Enlighten me, Michelle, what do you think?”

Right now? I’m thinking that I can see the outline of his muscles through the suit. His biceps, his abs. I’m thinking about the quality of his voice, how he’d sound if he didn’t hate me, or if he did and-

I stepped back. “I like reading. I like poetry. The books about feminism and the patriarchy? That was how I trained all my internalized misogyny out. I don’t think it makes me cultured or educated, I think it makes me self-aware. Or at least smart enough to understand my own weaknesses and try to overcome them. Alone.”

He stared at me, suit-eyes wide.

“Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh? You wanted to diminish me to some pretentious, slutty, self-important-”

“No, no, I didn’t- Michelle, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I turned away, scoffing and crossing my arms.

“Okay, um, Ned and I are-are having a pizza night at my place. Do you wanna join us?”

“I- sure, I guess.”

“Cool. Let’s head over then.”

It was tense. I was pissed, too. I didn’t exactly intend to spill like that.

I wasn’t sure if I liked the side of me that Peter brought out. The teasing and slight sexual tension? That I didn’t mind. But the yelling and screaming and fighting? That I did mind. It made me feel like shit about myself.

Being compared to Flash didn’t help.

We got back to our buildings, I climbed into my room to change, and then I jumped across the alley (gotta love being powered) into Peter’s fire escape and knocked on the window. He opened it right away.

“Hey. Come in. Ned already ordered pizza so it should be here soon.”

I climbed in through the window and closed it behind me, looking around. He had a bunk bed, despite (to my knowledge) being an only child. His room was relatively neat, which struck me as a little odd. There were little Star Wars trinkets laying around. A couple of different fighter jets on his bookshelf. A lightsaber leaned against the wall. A Rey figurine in his desk.

“Got a crush?” I asked, gesturing at it.

“What? No.”

I scoffed. “You’ve got terrible taste. Daisy Ridley’s a babe and a half.”

“Aren’t you straight?” Peter asked.

I shrugged. “There’s a theory that none of us are really straight. Ever heard of the Kinsey scale?”

He shook his head, curls flip-flopping when he did.

I left his room and wandered out, quickly spotting Ned on a couch.

“Hey, Neddy!”

I flopped down next to him.

“Hey, MJ. How was patrolling?”

“Boring. So boring.”

Peter sat down gingerly on the other side of Ned.

“What movie are we watching?” Peter asked.

“I figured Wonder Woman? Give MJ here a break from our Star Wars ramblings.”

“Ugh, bless your soul.”

My phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans. I pulled it out. I had a bunch of unopened snaps, so I started to go through and send bad selfies back.

“Michelle, are you seriously taking selfies while we set up a movie?”

“Well, it’s either my face, or you putting a DVD in the player, and one sends a message that’s the polar opposite of the message I’m trying to get across.”

Peter sighed, but didn’t say anything else. Ned and I exchanged a look.

I’d seen the movie a million times, so I kept casually snapping while we were watching. Not constantly, but if I got a snap, I wouldn’t completely ignore it. I’d just wait for a couple notifications to pile up before I responded.

Halfway through the movie, Peter paused it.

“Michelle, can I talk to you in the kitchen?”

Ned looked between us.

“Yeah, sure.”

I stood up and got off of the couch, following him to the kitchen.

“Okay, I invited you because if we get along, it makes things a lot easier on Mr. Stark, but you’re not even trying! You’re sitting there snapchatting random guys like-like they’re more important than Ned and I!”

“Peter, slow down. If we were all out getting dinner or just actually talking to each other, I wouldn’t pick up my phone at all, but we’re just watching a movie and eating pizza, so what’s the big deal?”

“It’s disrespectful!”

I sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“You’re not sorry at all,” Peter grumbled.

“Alright, I’ll leave then. I’m sorry I got your panties in such a twist.”

I started to walk out.

“You’re such a jerk,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I said, spinning back around. He hesitated. “No, say that to my face.”

“Y-you’re being a jerk.” It seemed to take all the conviction in his body.

I laughed, short and humourless. “Fuck you, Parker.”

I stole a piece of pizza on the way out, just so I could hear Ned gush about what a power move it was the next day during our study block.


	3. frustration

_Brown hair tangled between my fingers…_

_Soft kisses down my neck, chest, stomach…_

_Hickies left on my inner thighs…_

_Begging, I was begging him to-_

***

And the alarm was going off. Fantastic. I love starting off my day with a sex dream.

The day went by surprisingly fast, for a Thursday. Ned and I spent our study block sitting in the library, going over notes and talking about the events of last night. As per usual, he stayed impartial. Respectable.

Lunch, I spent alone, sitting at a table with a lunch tray and a book. Ned gave me an apologetic shrug and Peter led him across the cafeteria to another table. It was fine, I was used to spending my lunch hour alone.

After school, I had internship duties. Happy and I did an hour of kickboxing, and then I brought my laptop into the workshop so I could get my History project done.

Unfortunately for me and my productivity levels, Peter walked in.

“Oh, great,” he mumbled.

“Really? You wanna start up again where we left off last night?” I snapped, closing my laptop. God, I couldn’t stand him.

“No, I don’t usually enjoy people saying, ‘fuck you,’ to my face.”

“Not your kink?” I asked, giving him a fake pout and a fake sympathetic tone.

He scoffed and looked down. “You’re really proving my point about being mean and awful.”

“You’re really proving my point about being cold.”

There was a long staring contest. It was kind of funny, in a weird way. Peter couldn’t come off as intimidating or imposing or anything like that. He’d been playing tough since he’d been back from space, but he was the same teddy bear at heart. I wondered if things would be different between us now if he hadn’t been caught in an alternate timeline for five years.

We held eye contact for, like, thirty seconds before Happy walked in and knocked something off a table. We both turned at the same time.

“Hey, don’t mind me,” Happy said, picking up the crowbar and putting it back on the table. “I was just looking for Tony.”

“He’s outside,” I told him. “On the phone.”

“Oh. Thank you. You two go back to…whatever you were doing.”

Happy left somewhat hurriedly.

I reopened my laptop.

“Are you gonna ignore me now?” Peter asked.

I didn’t answer. I figured actually ignoring him would probably rile him up more than any answer I could give him.

“Good,” he said, but I could tell he was kind of annoyed.

I tried to focus on my History project, but flashes of last night’s dream kept passing through my head. I could almost hear the heavy breathing, the loud heartbeat, the moans. I could almost feel sweat-covered skin under mine, or soft brown hair between my fingers, or mouth between my legs.

This was annoying. I was trying to get work done, and here I was, recalling some stupid dream.

It was just a dream. I could handle it.

I dug my earphones out of my pocket and plugged them into my phone, putting one earphone in and turning on some Missy Elliot. Not my usual choice of homework music, but I couldn’t be bothered to switch from my workout playlist to my studying playlist.

I put my phone down on the table, and got to work.

My phone buzzed a few times, but I was good at ignoring it when I needed to. If I wanted to be able to have a normal conversation with my parents, I needed a perfect score on this assignment. So that was the goal. Eyes on the prize.

“Who’s texting you? One of your boy toys?”

I ignored him again. None of them were boy toys. I actually considered most of them friends. Miles and I were certainly friends, we’d gone out to lunch two weeks ago to catch up. Harry and I had a good rapport, too, and he was fun to talk to, despite the fact that I knew nothing about him. I could keep going, but I had to focus on the Cuban Missile Crisis right now.

“They’re really desperate for your attention, huh?”

Again, I didn’t respond. I had work to do, and I wouldn’t get any done at home, what with Jordan and Caleb fighting all the time.

I started to make real headway, even managed to convince myself that I could finish it tonight, before Peter came over and stood on the other side of my table, putting his hands on it and leaning forward.

My stupid, sex-dream-obsessed brain focused on his hands for just a second too long, letting my mind wander.

I snapped myself out of it, going back to my laptop. Cuban Missile Crisis. Important assignment.

“Michelle.”

“Parker,” I said, my voice completely flat.

“I need your help with a suit thing, do you mind?”

I took in a breath. “What’s the thing?”

“I just need someone with a steady hand, and you’re an artist, so…”

I glared at him. “I’m trying to work.”

“You seem distracted enough.”

Ohhhh no. He’d noticed. I did not mean to make those faces out loud.

“Anyways, it’s just a quick little thing, but if I screw it up it won’t be, so I’d appreciate if you’d help me out.” He was practically gritting his teeth.

Well, you see, if he’s asking me for something? I can have a little fun.

I closed my laptop and stood up, hands on the table, leaning forward.

“You’d appreciate it?”

He sighed, clenching his jaw. “I would.”

“How much so?”

He squinted his eyes at me.

“Come on, Parker. If you need my skills so badly, you’re gonna have to beg.” I dropped my voice all low and sultry. I wasn’t actually gonna make him beg, I just wanted to see the look on his face.

His eyes went impossibly wide and a blush started to creep up his neck.

Priceless.

“I’m not- no way. I’d rather risk it.”

I shrugged. “If you want to spend hours undoing an easily avoidable mistake, be my guest.”

He sighed. I could see him struggling internally. This was fun. “Michelle, please, I’m- ugh, I’m-”

I laughed, gently shoving his shoulder back. “That was painful. What did you need my steady hands for?”

He was fuming. I could see the jaw muscles flexing in his face as I headed over to his table.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much. What did you need?”

He dropped his head, defeated. “I need you to help me with a stitch.”

“You need my sewing skills?” I asked incredulously.

“There’s a couple fibres in the heating system that came loose and if I stitch them in wrong, half of my suit will my unheated.”

“Alright, show me what you need me to do.”

He pointed out the threads he needed me to stitch back in and where, and then handed me the needle.

I pulled up a stool and sat down, pulling my legs up so I could cross them, and leaned over so I could get a closer look.

Peter was standing directly behind me, watching me.

“Dude, go for a walk or something. Watching me isn’t gonna help at all.”

“I’m just…observing.”

I glared at him for a moment, but he refused to move.

“Alright.”

I threaded the fibres through the needle.

“Careful-”

“I know, Peter.”

I started to stitch the fibres into the fabric of the suit, working over to where they needed to connect to the rest of the fibres. Peter kept leaning in and watching me closely. I stopped mid-stitch to look at him.

“You’re like a helicopter parent.”

“What?”

“The suit is your baby and I’m a perfectly qualified babysitter who you feel the need to nanny cam the shit out of your house over.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you do it right!”

I dropped the needle. “Do it yourself then.” I got up and started to head back around to my laptop.

“Is your ego that fragile?” Peter asked.

“No, you asked me for a favour and then acted like you didn’t think I could do it anyways, which is rude and disrespectful.”

“Michelle-”

“Nope. Do it yourself, Peter.”

He screwed it up within a few minutes and had to pull them loose again and retry. He got it the second time, though. I could tell by the obnoxiously loud sigh of relief.

That was followed by a two-hour-long stand off. Neither one of us would speak to each other, we’d just glare across the room occasionally. Eventually, I got finished my project, put my laptop in my backpack, and started to leave the room.

“Are you going home?”

“No, Parker, I’m going to Kansas.”

“Geez. Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I didn’t say anything, just pulled my keys out of my pocket and headed out of the compound to my car.

I couldn’t relax the whole drive home. Peter was driving me absolutely nuts. Honestly, I was surprised we hadn’t murdered each other yet.

I was still agitated when I got back to my building. As I was walking down the hall to my apartment, I saw my neighbour knocking on a different neighbour’s door.

“Hey, um, Mrs. Adler’s in Nantucket right now,” I said.

He looked over. Holy shit, this boy was cute. “Oh. Thanks.” He stared at me for a second. “Sorry, we haven’t met. I’m new in the building. My name’s Max.”

“I’m Michelle. I’m, um, two doors down.” I pointed at my door. He looked there and back at me, giving me a slow, lopsided smile.

He was really cute. Dark, smooth skin. Dimples. Coily black hair. Really gorgeous.

“You, um, you seem kinda tense,” he said.

“Oh, I just, heh, I have this internship and one of the guys was driving me absolutely nuts today. It’s fine.”

“Do you wanna maybe come in and watch TV and chill out? Might help.”

Ooh. This was tricky. He was a fairly muscular guy, had three or four inches on me, and I’d just met him. However, if I was going into his place, I could leave suddenly without having to awkwardly ask him to leave, and he seemed nice enough. He was smiling, and he was really, really cute.

Fuck it. Worst case, I had super strength. If I could take sumo wrestlers, I could take him.

“I, uh, gotta drop off my backpack and stuff in my room, but it’ll take me two seconds and then I’d love to come back and join you.”

His smile grew. Damn, he had perfect teeth. “Sounds good, Michelle.”

I laughed, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Actually, my friends call me MJ.”

“MJ,” he repeated back to me. “That’s a cool name. Um, go drop off your stuff, and I’ll get the TV set up.”

I smiled back. “Alright.”

What was I doing? This normally wasn’t my thing. Normally, I was just kind of playfully mean and hope it came off as flirting, and then I’d stick to that routine for several months before anything happened.

Maybe this was a good thing. I got good vibes off of him.

I went into my apartment, dropped my backpack on my bed, ditched my sweater, fixed my hair a little, and went back to his apartment.

The second I knocked on the door, he opened it.

“Hey, come in.”

His apartment was pretty clean, despite a few cardboard boxes sitting in the corners.

“Sorry about the boxes. We literally moved in, like, two weeks ago, and my dad’s been working overtime, and I’ve been busy with school.”

“What school do you go to?” I asked.

“Bronx School of Science.”

I scoffed. “And you moved to Queens? Are you a fan of commuting?”

He shrugged. “It’s a safer area. Our last place got broken into four or five times in the last year, so…”

“Shit, that’s not great.”

He laughed. “Yeah, no, not ideal at all. So the commute is worth it if I don’t have to spend as much time at a precinct filling out a report with my dad. Oh, shit, sorry, I’m being a bad host. Do you want anything to drink or eat or anything?”

“No, thanks, I’m good,” I told him, amused.

He led me over to the couch and we sat down. “So, I’m banking on the assumption that you like _How I Met Your Mother_ , because that is the only DVD set I’ve unpacked so far.”

I laughed. “I’ve actually never watched it.”

“What? You’ve never seen How I Met Your Mother?”

“No, I haven’t. It never piqued my interest.”

“Okay, we’re watching the pilot. Partially because it’s the only thing we can watch, but mostly because I feel the need to culture you.”

I laughed, yet again. “Culture away, Max.”

He turned it on, and I sat through the whole thing without a word about how cliché it was. It wasn’t bad, it was just kind of predictable. Also, Ted kinda sucked a bit, but he seemed like the kind of character who’d grow on you.

Right at the end of the episode, I got a text from Peter.

_Spider-Dork: are we patrolling tonight or what?_

I sighed, heavy, and swiped the notification away.

“Ooh, that seemed tense,” Max commented, shifting on the couch to face me more.

“It’s the guy from my internship. He’s…difficult.”

“Difficult how?” He had this look on his face, like he was genuinely interested, and not just asking to get me to talk so at the end of everything I’d say something about what a good listener he was, even though the whole time he was checked out.

“He’s- god, he drives me crazy. We fight constantly, he has to be critical of everything I do, and even right now he wants me to do more internship stuff with him.”

Max checked the time. “You guys have some wack-ass hours.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s part of the job, I guess. Never really off.”

“Have you considered dropping the internship?”

“I, um, can’t really do that. Although, Peter’s tried his darn best to get me kicked.”

“Wow. Guy sounds like a tool.”

“Right?”

I noticed I was naturally starting to lean closer to him.

“Why don’t you tell your boss?” Max suggested.

“My boss is dating his aunt.”

“Oooooof. That is…rough.” He put his hand on my knee. Okay…

“Anyways, it’s fine, I can deal with him.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” His hand was slowly inching up my thigh. We’d known each other for half an hour and he was really just gunning for it.

“I kinda have to, though. If I lose the internship-”

He squeezed my thigh, and I jumped back.

“Okay, dude, what the hell?”

“What? We were vibing.”

“Yeah, when you’re vibing with a girl, you tell her she’s pretty and kiss her or something, not immediately try to get in her pants!”

“I’m not trying to get into your pants,” he snapped.

I scoffed, looking at the ceiling. God, I was dumb.

“It was nice to meet you, Max,” I said, giving my tone an icy edge before I stormed out of the apartment.

I headed back into my room and collapsed on my bed.

_Me: Go out without me. Not in the mood._

_Spider-Dork: I don’t think I’m allowed._

_Me: Then whatever._

_Spider-Dork: It’s not about you. It’s about your responsibilities._

I sighed. He really wasn’t gonna let it go.

_Me: Fine. I’ll meet you on the fire escape in five._

I got up and changed. When I got outside, he was already there, waiting, arms crossed.

“That wasn’t five minutes.”

“Whatever. I’m not in the fucking mood tonight, Parker.”

“It’s like you’re not even trying-”

“I said I’m not in the mood tonight, alright?”

“Do you even know the gravity of the kind of situations you’ll find yourself in?”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Are you forgetting that I got shot, like, a week and a half ago?”

“That doesn’t compare to the kind of shit-”

“Jesus Christ! We get it, Spider-Man, you single-handedly brought down the Vulture in your homemade suit. Can you shut the fuck up about it so we can patrol and be done with it? I’m sick of being around you.”

“Fine. And I’m the cold one.”

I shot him a sour look, and then took off.

Again, it was one of those slower days. Helping the elderly cross the street. Dealing with amateur muggers. Peter kept trying to intervene, take control of situations I had a handle on. I was getting sick of it. Mr. Stark paired us up so I could get better. How was I supposed to do that by watching him do everything? You don’t learn by watching, you learn by doing. Otherwise I’d just watch YouTube Spider-Man compilations to learn the ropes.

And then we went down to the subway.

It was generally a good place to break up low-level drug deals, minor fist fights, and pick people up off the tracks.

“I think we should split up,” I said to Peter as we headed down into the subway. “I’ll take this stop, you take the next.”

“Nope. We’ve gotta stick together, remember? Unless you want Mr. Stark to give us a lecture.”

“Oh, no, I’m so scared of a slap on the wrist.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Roll your eyes all you want. I’m sticking with you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We went to opposite sides of the station and hid in little nooks, waiting for trouble. As per usual, it didn’t take long before we heard a woman shout.

Peter got there first, pulling a junkie off of a business woman. She was readjusting her blouse. The junkie pulled out a knife, and before I could jump in, Peter had knocked it out of his hand, the knife clattering against the concrete.

I sighed, going over to the woman to check up on her rather than watch the junkie struggle fruitlessly against Peter.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, he’s just a creep.”

“Spidey’s got him handled. Do you need anything?”

She huffed, readjusting her purse. “No, I’m okay.”

Great. I felt useless.

She got on the next train, and Peter scared off the junkie.

“Good job,” Peter said to me afterwards.

“I didn’t do anything, thanks to you.”

“What?”

“Patrolling with you sucks. You take over everything.”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? I stood there feeling like a waste of space.”

“You could’ve helped me!”

“You had it handled.”

He scoffed. “You’re a hypocrite.”

“What? I would’ve gotten in the way if I’d jumped in. You had him handled and then some.”

Peter picked up the junkies knife and tossed it in a garbage can. “You can’t complain about being on the sidelines if you don’t get involved.”

“You always butt in before I can!”

“Whatever floats your boat, man.”

We went back to our nooks to wait for the next kerfuffle. We were closer to the Bronx, so subway skirmishes were common enough that we normally encountered two or three per hour.

It was about fifteen minutes before we heard a couple of guys shouting.

“-it doesn’t matter, man, that’s my sister!”

“You fucked my ex last month!”

“That’s different!”

“Listen, bro, you’ve gotta back the fuck off!”

“Don’t tell me to fuck off, you fuck off!”

I got over there as fast as I could to beat Peter to it. A couple of drunk guys were pushing each other around and shouting at each other, just a little too close to the tracks for comfort.

I got in between them, pushing them apart. Normally, the second you broke eye contact between two guys, the situation died down. However, I think drunk guys were a little harder to break apart, because one of them shoved me out of the way.

Peter started to get involved, and I turned and glared at him.

“I’ve got this, asshole.”

I got between them again.

“Hey! Break it up! Calm down!”

I pushed them apart, holding them there. I could hear a train coming on the tracks.

“Calm the fuck down. You’re two seconds away from falling onto-”

One of them went around me to get to the other, but was dumb enough to go in front of me instead of behind me. In front of me were the tracks. Behind me was solid concrete. I grabbed at him, desperately, getting a handful of shirt and stopping him from falling onto the tracks. I let out a sigh of relief.

Then his friend said, slurring, “He deserves to die on those tracks.”

I felt two firm hands push me forward, pushing me and the drunkard onto the tracks.

I saw Peter web the friend and pull him back.

Great. I really wasn’t proving my abilities here.

I grabbed the drunk guy and pulled him to his feet. Time seemed to slow down the closer the train got.

“You gotta get off the tracks, dude. Come on-”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him-”

“Focus! There’s a train coming!”

I grabbed him and threw him, and he scrambled onto the platform, easily.

I looked at the train. It was close enough that the lights filled my entire field of vision. I jumped, straight up, hoping desperately that I’d be able to grab a rafter and hold myself up and the train would just whiz under me.

And then something hit the side of my waist and yanked me to the side, out of the way of the train. I flew straight into Peter, knocking us both over, me landing on top of him.

For a moment, I was frozen. My heart was pounding, and I was catching my breath. Peter’s hands stayed on my waist, waiting for me to move.

After I got a grip, I scrambled off of him.

“What the hell, asshole? I had it under control!”

“You were about to get hit by a train and I saved your life, and now you’re yelling at me?” he snapped, standing up.

“That’s rich. I was fine, you dick.”

I tugged the webbing off of me, balling it up and throwing it at him.

“I’m done. Goodnight.”

I ignored the eyes on us as I stormed out, walking back up the stairs to the street.

“Wait up!”

Peter ran up after me, catching up and running ahead and then turning around and walking backwards so he could face me.

“Can we work this out? Because I am trying really hard for us to get along here.”

“Why?” I snapped.

“Because if we’ve gotta work so closely, I’d rather not hate patrolling every single day. It’s be much more enjoyable for both of us if we’re not at each other’s throats every time we’re around each other.”

“Well then, when you’re ready to not be a dick, let me know.”

“I’m not being a dick! I saved your life because you wanted so badly to do everything on your own when Mr. Stark literally paired us up so you didn’t have the do everything on your own!”

“I had it handled.”

Peter huffed, stopping directly in front of me. “Next time I’ll just let you die, then.”

Wow. Harsh.

“Death would be better than dealing with your ashy ass.”

I raised an arm and shot out a web, shooting off.

He followed me, but didn’t try to speak to me the whole way back home.

Good. He’d literally just told me he’d let me die. I didn’t wanna talk to him.

I hated going to bed angry, but guess what I did that night? Go to bed angry.

Love it.


	4. maximum alcohol capacity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which mj is a flirty drunk and peter is v concerned about her

When I got to school the next day, Ned was standing at my locker.

“Morning, Neddy.”

“Morning, MJ. What’s going on? You look tense.”

“I had a rough evening,” I said, opening my locker.

“Yeah, I heard about some of it from Peter.”

I sighed. “Yeah, there was that. Also, I met my new neighbour and he was really cute but then he turned out to be kind of a perv. So I’m cheesed about that.”

Ned frowned. “That’s… oof. I don’t know what to tell you. Guys suck.”

I looked at him funny. “You’re a guy.”

“I said what I said,” he told me with a shrug. “So, I think I know how to get you to loosen up.”

“Oh, really? How’s that?”

“Liz is throwing some big party with a bunch of her fancy NYU friends tonight.”

I squinted at him. “Interesting. An excuse to get ridiculously drunk, catch up with Liz, maybe hook up with a cute frat guy. I’m in. We splitting an Uber?”

Ned shook his head. “I’m driving. I’ve got this big brunch thing with my family tomorrow and I do not want to be hungover for that.”

“Oof, yeah, that’s not something you wanna have a pounding headache for.”

“Anyways, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Sounds good. See you, dude.”

He patted my shoulder as he headed off in the direction of Peter’s locker.

I was hoping Peter wouldn’t come to the party, due to his weird past with Liz.

***

“Jordan!” I shouted.

He trudged down the hall and stood in my doorway. “What do you want?”

I did a little twirl in front of him. “How do I look?”

He sighed. “Normal, I guess.”

I looked in the mirror. I was wearing high-waisted leggings, combat boots, and a grey crop top. My hair was all loose and messy, because I figured if I clipped it back, Drunk MJ would lose the clips.

“Is Dora home?” Dora was short for Pandora, which was my little sister’s name.

Jordan gave me an apathetic shrug. “Can I go back to the living room? Caleb and I were in the middle of playing Halo.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m heading out.”

“Am I covering for you tonight?”

I shook my head. “I told Mom I’d likely stay with Ned, so she’s not waiting up for me.”

“Alright. See you later.”

He left my room.

I kept looking at myself in the mirror, trying to decide if I liked the look.

I decided the combat boots would be too hard for Drunk MJ to pull off, and put on a pair of red Vans instead.

I looked out my window and saw Ned’s car parked on the sidewalk outside. Sure enough, a second later, my phone screen lit up.

Neddy Bear: I’m downstairs. You ready?

Me: Yep. Be down in a sec

Luckily, my leggings had pockets (thank you, Lululemon, you overpriced lifesavers), so I shoved my phone in a pocket and then left my room, closing the door behind me. I knocked on Dora’s door. No answer. She wasn’t home.

“Alright, kids, I’m heading out. Don’t burn the place down.”

“Have fun!” Caleb said.

At the same time as Caleb, Jordan said, “Don’t die.”

“Love the vote of confidence. See you.”

I ruffled both of their heads of hair before leaving and running downstairs.

I stepped out of the front of my building, and saw Peter walking up to Ned’s car.

I walked up, jogging a few steps to get to the car before Peter did.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Ned’s driving me to Liz’s party. What are you doing?”

“Ned’s driving _me_ to Liz’s party.”

Ned. Sneaky little shit.

“I call shotgun!”

Peter threw up his hands in frustration as I got in. He got in behind me, sliding into the middle seat.

“So what exactly are you trying to pull here?” I asked Ned as I buckled up.

“You guys both need to figure out how to get along and I think getting you both drunk and in close proximity is a good way to do that.”

“Great,” Peter and I griped in unison.

Ned turned on some music and we drove over to campus, pulling up to Liz’s sorority house.

“Alright, the only rule I’m giving you two is that you’ve still gotta be able to walk at the end of the night, because I’m not carrying you back to my car,” Ned told us sternly.

“Oh, don’t worry. I can carry Peter no problem.” I shot Peter a fake smile, and he shot one back, and then I got out of the car.

Liz met us at the door. “Hey, guys!”

I ran up and hugged her. “Ugh, I’ve missed you.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around me tight. “I’ve missed you too, MJ.”

I pulled away. “Look at you, throwing sorority parties.”

She flipped her hair. “Gotta keep a reputation.”

We were laughing together when Ned and Peter walked up.

“Alright, well, come on in, guys.”

She led us into the party. The house was huge. The lights were dim, there was loud music with heavy bass playing, and everyone inside had a red cup in hand.

“Alright, beer pong is set up in the kitchen, along with all the alcohol. We’ll be playing games in the living room. Other than that, have fun, don’t drink yourselves into alcohol poisoning, and find me if you need me to introduce you to someone cute.”

 Liz gave us one last smile, and then disappeared into the crowd. I beelined for the kitchen, grabbing a Smirnoff Ice and hitting the top against the counter to take the lid off.

Peter came over and poured himself a drink. Ned had a bottle of Coke that he’d brought in.

I held up my bottle and Ned clinked his bottle against mine, then we both took a sip.

Ned and Peter and I stood in a corner of the party chatting. Well, mostly Peter and I chatting with Ned and ignoring each other.

The problem with me and alcohol was that I was a lightweight, and alcohol made me flirty, so by the end of my first drink (I know, I’m pathetic) I was starting to get giggly.

“Can I get you a refill?” Ned asked.

“Yes, please,” I said, handing him my bottle.

“I’ll be back in a sec.”

Peter was still working on his first drink, but he also didn’t like to get super drunk.

I did. Don’t get me wrong, that tipsy, buzzed feeling is great, but I was a big fan of the middle ground between tipsy and wasted.

“How’re you feeling?” Peter asked.

I frowned. “Whatdya mean?”

“You just look like you’re already kind of tipsy.”

I giggled. “Yeah, a little.”

Ned came back, holding a second bottle of Smirnoff Ice. I looked around for an edge to smack it on to pop the top off, but I couldn’t, so I pulled it off with my bare hand.

Ned stared at me, looking a little scared. “MJ!”

I shrugged, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a sip.

Peter rolled his eyes, muttering, “I can do that,” to himself.

We kept standing and chatting, except that once I got halfway through my drink, I was too buzzed to worry about being mad at Peter. Plus, I was starting to get to the flirty stage, so any time he made me giggle, I put a hand on his arm, or made some stupid, flirty comment.

One of Liz’s sorority sisters shouted, “We’re playing Suck and Blow! Circle up!”

I smacked Ned’s arm. “Let’s go!”

We went into the living room and got into the circle. I ended up with a sorority girl on my left and Peter on my right. Ned was on Peter’s right.

They were using a playing card to start, going around to the left. I spotted Betty and Cindy on the opposite side of the circle, laughing before the card got to Betty.

I’d find them later to chat.

The card got around to Ned, and Ned almost dropped it before passing it onto Peter.

Peter turned to me, and I turned just a little too fast and stumbled. He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me close so he could pass me the card.

Maybe I was just tipsy and stupid, but I thought I could feel the warmth of his lips through the card.

Or maybe it was just warm from everyone’s mouths being on it.

I turned and passed it to the girl next to me, giggling afterwards. I tipped backwards, putting a foot back to catch myself, but I felt Peter’s arm wrap around me. Once I was steady, he let go.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He laughed. “You really are a lightweight.”

I shoved him, but there was a smile on my face.

Weird. I was smiling at Peter. Must’ve been the alcohol.

After the round of Suck and Blow, Liz came up to me.

“There’s this frat guy I met last week that you’d totally get along with. His name’s Henry, and he’s really cute and smart.”

I squinted at her as she started to pull me away from the living room and towards the kitchen. “Did you wait until you knew I had some alcohol in me because you know I’m a flirty drunk?”

She laughed. “You got me.” When we got into the kitchen, I downed the last of my drink, then ditched the bottle in the recycling under the sink and poured some rum and Coke into a red cup. Liz pulled a really tall guy away from the game of beer pong and over to me. I leaned against the edge of the counter and smiled as she pulled him over.

“MJ, this is Henry. Henry, MJ. I’ll leave you to it.”

Once again, Liz disappeared.

Henry was, true to description, really cute, in a kind of baby-faced way. He had cute, round cheeks, big green eyes, and short blond hair.

“Hey,” he said, holding out a hand.

“We’re doing handshakes?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He raised one back at me, so I gave in and shook his hand.

“This party’s great, right? Not too crazy, but still fun. Right in the sweet spot.”

I took a sip of the drink. “Oh, yeah, crazy parties suck,” I deadpanned.

“Well, I mean, shit gets stolen, cops shut it down. Also, the hangovers from parties like that?”

“Okay, fair. I’m lucky enough that I don’t get hungover often.”

He gawked at me. “Damn, really? If I had a superpower, that’s what I’d wish for.”

“Really? You’d wish to be hangover-free? That’s the lamest superpower.”

“What would you pick?” he asked, crossing his arms. His biceps bulged as he did. Damn.

This was a hard question to answer, as someone with superpowers. I shrugged. “I don’t know. Invisibility is the perverted answer. Flight’s lame. Also, super-strength is lame. Just work out more.”

He looked amused. “Alright, you’re picky. I’d wanna be super fast, you know? Give Usain Bolt a run for his money.”

“Captain America runs faster,” I said, taking a sip of my drink and looking up at him through my eyelashes.

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve met him. His jogging speed is, like, twenty-five miles per hour.”

He coughed. “I’m sorry, you’ve met Captain America? How?”

“I have an internship with Stark Industries.”

“What? That’s insane! Do you know Tony Stark?”

I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts so I could show him Mr. Stark’s name.

“That’s wild.”

I tucked my phone back in my pocket. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. He’s honestly, like, super paternal with us.”

Henry laughed. “That’s awesome. You, um, didn’t answer the question by the way.”

“What question?”

“What would your superpower be?”

“Oh!” I giggled a bit. “Right. That. I think I’d go with shapeshifting. Do you know how much I wish I could be white for a day, just to see what that’d be like? Or a guy, so I can walk down the street without being catcalled.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I can see why that’d be a good superpower if you’re a minority. I’m a straight white cis guy, so I can’t really complain.”

Ooh. He was cute AND aware of his privilege. Interesting. “So, other than being a fast runner, what would you pick?”

“Wow, you made my original pick sound so lame.”

“Sorry,” I giggled, touching his arm.

“I think I’d go with mental powers. Telepathy, telekinetics-”

“Telekinesis?” I asked, earing a dopey smile out of him. It was a smile I often saw on Peter’s face when he and Ned were joking around.

“Right, that. Anyway, if it starts with tele, I’d want it. Any chance you know how to do that via your internship?”

I laughed. “Sorry, man, no can do. We’re specifically barred from the superpower experiments,” I joked.

“Wait, is that a real Stark Industries thing?”

“No! God, no, Mr. Stark would never.”

Before the conversation could continue, a familiar hand tapped Henry’s shoulder.

“Do you mind if I steal MJ?”

It was Max.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll, um, catch up with you later,” Henry said, then went back to the table to play beer pong.

“Listen,” Max said, drawing my attention back to him, “I owe you an apology.” He was slurring quite a bit. “I was being a jerk yesterday and…you deserve better than that so will you, um, give me a second chance?”

He was giving me puppy eyes. I caved, too much alcohol in my system for me to stay mad.

“Yeah, sure.”

He sighed, relieved. “Thank god. I was so worried I’d screwed it up with my beautiful neighbour.”

“Wow, laying it on thick already,” I teased.

We kept flirting and drinking for a while, and then at some point I was pretty drunk and we were both laying it on thick. He leaned in, slowly, eyes drifting closed, and kissed me.

His lips were soft and warm, and I leaned into it, pressing my body into his and wrapping my arms around his neck.

We made out in the kitchen, against the side of the fridge, and it was a lot of fun. I felt like I was at peak high school fun.

After a few minutes, he pulled away and gently brushed some hair out of my face.

“Come on, we should go dance or something.”

I giggled, enjoying the attention. “Okay, then, let’s dance.”

He started to pull me out of the kitchen towards the dance floor, but then pulled me past it and towards the stairs. My head started to hurt, just a bit.

“Max, you passed it.”

He didn’t listen, tightening his grip around my waist and starting up the stairs. I realized that’s where the bedrooms were.

There was no way he’d apologized for being a perv and then immediately went back to being pervy, right?

My head was starting to hurt more. I realized that was my spidey-sense going off, warning me about this.

“Hold on, I wanna stay down here and dance.”

“We’ll dance after. If you can still walk.”

We got to the top of the stairs and I stopped, holding onto the bannister.

“I really would just prefer to dance. I don’t have any protection on me, and we’re both drunk-”

“Oh, babygirl, I’ve got you covered,” he said with a grin, patting his front pocket.

My head was pounding. This was bad, this was bad, this was bad-

“Come on, we’ll find a big, comfy bed, and-”

I stopped listening. My head felt like it was about to split open, and I was more focused on that than resisting him, and he was pulling me into a bedroom, lips landing on my neck. His lips didn’t feel soft and warm anymore. They just made me feel sick.

“Max, I really don’t-”

“Shh, just relax, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

He was closing the door, but it stopped suddenly, just short of closing.

It swung open again, hitting the wall with a bang, and Max pulled away from me.

Peter was standing in the doorway.

“There you are, Michelle. Ned and I are heading out so he can make curfew, so if you want a ride-”

“We live in the same building, I’ve got her,” Max interrupted.

I pushed him off. “I gotta go, that’s my ride.”

Max grabbed me. “I can take you home-”

I shook my head, pulling away again. “Gotta make curfew. Bye.” I rushed out of there before he could grab me again. Peter walked right behind me all the way down the stairs.

“Ned, um, saw Max start to pull you away, and I noticed you had that spidey-sense look on your face, so I- whoa, okay, try not to fall down the stairs.”

He’d grabbed my arm before I could fall, then didn’t let go until we were on solid ground.

“Are you okay?”

I closed my eyes, brows furrowed. “No. I feel…gross.”

“Who was that guy?”

“He’s, um, he lives down the hall. He was a bit of a jerk to me yesterday, and then he came up and apologized to me, and then we were making out, and then he asked me to dance, but then-”

I started to fall over. Peter scooped an arm around my waist, pulling me upright again.

“Okay, you’re really drunk. Do you need me to carry you out to the car?”

“I can handle myself, Parker. And aren’t you drunk, too?”

He shook his head. “Just had the one drink. I, um, figured you might get too drunk to walk.”

I sighed, giving in. “Okay. I’m sorry. Please carry me.”

He laughed. He had kind of a wonderful laugh. He was actually kind of…beautiful in the party lighting.

Wow, Drunk MJ would really go for anybody.

“Alright, Ned’s already in the car. You ready?”

“Sure.”

He lifted me up, bridal-style, like he had when I was shot. I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Oh, you’re light,” he mentioned.

“If you ever bring this up, ever again, I will murder you.”

He laughed, and I could feel the vibrations in his chest against my body. “Alright. Understood.”

We got out of the house and out to the car. “You want shotgun?”

“Can I sit in the back with you?” I asked. “I don’t wanna sit up, but I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He helped me into the car, then sat next to me. I ignored the seat belt, laying down, my head in Peter’s lap. Once again, Drunk MJ had the lowest standards. I stared up at the ceiling of Ned’s car for a moment, then squeezed my eyes shut. I could still feel Max’s lips on my neck.

“MJ, are you staying over with Peter and I, or do you want me to drop you off at home?”

“No, I don’t wanna deal with my brother’s playing Xbox until six.”

“Okay.”

There was a long stretch of silence, and then Peter said, “Are you gonna throw up? Should I open a window?”

“No, I’m not that drunk.”

“How’s your head?”

“Fine. No spidey-sense headache.”

“That’s good.”

After a couple more minutes, I sat up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wanna look out the window.”

I scooted all the way across the backseat to the window. NYC was beautiful at night, and I wanted to soak it in.

I noticed Peter glance at me a couple times in the reflection. I probably looked like a mess.

We got to Ned’s building, and parked in the garage under the building. Peter helped me out of the car again.

“Do you want me to carry you again?” I shook my head, which made me dizzy and I had to grab a fistful of Peter’s shirt to catch myself. He laughed. “You sure? I won’t say anything, scout’s honour.”

“Fine. But next party you’re getting wasted and I’m carrying you,” I slurred, wrapping my arms around his neck as he picked me up again.

“I can get behind that idea.”

Ned walked ahead of us, opening the door, hitting the button for the elevator, stuff like that.

Once we were in the elevator, I wiggled until Peter gently let me down.

“You sure you’re alright, MJ?” Ned asked, looking amused. “You’re wasted.”

“I am not wasted. I’m drunk as hell, but I’m not wasted.”

“Whatever you say, dude.”

I stood between the two of them until the elevator doors opened again.

I walked out first, waving Peter off and then keeping my hand against a wall as I walked down the hallway. Which one was Ned’s door, again?

Ned stopped me before I walked past his door, then let me into the apartment first.

“Alright, MJ, you take my bed, Peter and I can camp in the living room.”

I pouted. “Are you camping without me?”

“Do you really wanna sleep next to me?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. “How much action am I gonna get, because you might as well make it worth my while.”

The two of them laughed. “Yeah, you’re wasted, dude,” Ned chuckled. “I still have some of your makeup wipes in my bathroom in the top drawer from the last time you stayed over. Take my bed. We’ll set up in here.”

I gave in. “Alright.”

I half-walked, half-stumbled into Ned’s bathroom, dug around in the drawer and pulled out a makeup wipe, scrubbing my face until it was clean, and then went to bed. I didn’t even bother getting under the covers, just laid down.

I was out like a light.


	5. retreat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i dont even know anymore half of this wasn't in my plan for this chapter so i guess this fic has become its own entity

_Two weeks later…_

Every single morning, I woke up from a nightmare. And it was always about Max. The fact that he living right down the hall from me didn’t help, either. I couldn’t seem to scrub away the feeling of his mouth against my neck. I couldn’t unsee him grinning and patting his pocket. I couldn’t unhear the words, “Just relax, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

He didn’t even do anything to me, it was just the knowledge of what he would’ve done if Peter hadn’t intercepted.

And, funny thing, we weren’t getting along any better. Apparently, he was only caring and warm when there was a bit of alcohol in him.

I had, however, gotten much better at patrolling, Spider-Girl-ing, the whole deal. Maybe I was just more focused. The more attention I paid to what we were doing, the less I had to pay to Peter. My grades had gone up, too, for the same reason.

Before, Peter and I’s rivalry was distracting. Now, I was channeling that into competitive energy. If I put more effort into doing better than him and less effort into yelling at him, it was a little more productive.

Training was going well, too. Happy had me sparring against Peter, and I was at the point where I could put up a decent fight against him, even beat him a few times. Considering I’d been at this for less than three months, and he’d been doing this for years, I was making really good progress.

Again, focusing on competing was doing me some good.

The only problem with the sparring thing was that it meant Peter and I were seeing each other hot and sweaty a lot, which only made the sexual tension between us thicker. Sometimes, I figured it’d be easier if we just boned, but then I remembered how awful he was to me, and the desire went away.

Mostly, anyways.

So, anyways, here we were, two weeks post-party. Sunday at the base.

Mr. Stark- Tony, he’d started insisting I call him Tony – trained with Peter and I that day. He didn’t spar against us, but he did do some cardio and weight lifting with us, then watched us spar and critiqued us a bit.

After Peter and I’s third round, he stopped us.

“Alright, you should both go take a shower, then meet me back in the workshop. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question, but we both nodded. He tossed us each a towel, and we headed into the locker rooms.

I opened my locker, which I’d shoved my backpack into earlier, and pulled out a change of clothes. I set out the clothes on the bench (no one else was coming in here anyways) and then hopped in the shower.

I took the fastest shower possible, got dressed, and then went back into the workshop.

Peter was already standing there, his hair wet and falling into his face.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbled.

Tony came into the workshop, holding a folder. Were we getting a big mission?

“Alright, so, you guys are on break for a bit, right?”

Peter nodded. “We don’t have any school under next Monday.”

“Yeah, that’s what May said. So, we thought that, you know, you guys have been working really hard lately. MJ, you’ve made a lot of progress. You both could use a break.”

I looked at Peter, confused. He looked back at me, equally confused.

“A break?” I asked.

Tony opened the folder and pulled out four plane tickets. “I have a beach-front property in Northern California. The four of us are going for a week.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Like, you, May, Peter and I? In a fairly remote location for a week? You’re not worried Peter and I are gonna, I don’t know, kill each other?”

He shrugged. “It’s a big beach, you guys don’t have to be around each other. And maybe when you’re not under a ton of pressure you’ll find each other bearable. Anyways, it’s not really a choice. MJ, I already talked to your dad. Happy will pick you guys up at seven tomorrow.” Tony looked at his watch. “Oh, I gotta make sure he picks up May soon.”

Peter gave me a disdainful look.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” he protested.

“You have a loud face,” I shot back, referencing a conversation we’d had last month. He huffed, turning back to Tony.

“Do we really have to spend all week together?”

“Yep.”

“Are you seriously complaining about a beach vacation?” I snapped at Peter.

“No, I’m complaining about spending time with you all week.”

“See, this is why we can never get along, because you have to complain about me at every chance-”

“I’m sorry, I’m the one who’s always complaining? Did you even-”

“Hey!” Tony shouted. “Break it up, kids. Go home and pack, I’ll see tomorrow.”

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Yeah, thanks, T-Tony.”

Aw, Peter was still nervous about calling him Tony. Cute.

“See you guys tomorrow.”

I went back to the locker room, grabbed my backpack, and drove home.

I hated packing. I hated folding and shoving things in and accounting for everything we might do. Knowing Tony, we were gonna go to some fancy restaurant at some point, so I had to find a dress.

I didn’t wanna wear my sophomore homecoming dress, or my junior homecoming dress. I didn’t really own anything else.

Dora would have something.

I went and knocked on her door. She opened it, without saying anything, and went back to her desk, going through Tumblr on her laptop.

“Do you mind if I steal a dress? I’m going on vacation for a week and I need something…beachy.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“California. Internship retreat thing.”

“Weird. Okay. Sure, raid my closet. You alright if I borrow your books while you’re away?”

“No dog-earing or annotating, but sure.”

“Thanks, MJ.”

I opened her closet, looking through. Dora was always way more stylist than I was.

There was a peachy one that caught my eye. It had a halter top and a flowy skirt. I pulled it out, holding the hanger up in front of me.

“Do you think I can pull this off?” I asked.

“Oh, easily. Take it.”

I tossed it over the foot of her bed, and kept looking. I maybe needed something more formal.

“Hey, do you still have that, like, black floral one?”

“Yeah, it’s near the back.”

I dug around the back of her closet until I found the dress. It was an off-the-shoulder dress with a brown belt that cinched it in at the waist.

“Do you think this is too short for, like, fancy dinner with Tony Stark?”

Dora squinted. “No.”

“Dora, please take into account that my legs are, like, eight miles long.”

She shrugged. “He’s dating Peter’s aunt, right? He’s not gonna be paying attention to your legs.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right. Thanks for letting me steal these.”

“You’re taking both?”

“Yeah, if that’s alright.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna be wearing them in, what, twenty degree weather? Take ‘em, have fun. Send me pics from the beach.”

I laughed. “God, why can’t the twins be as mellow as you?”

“They’re boys, remember?”

“Fair enough. I’m gonna finish packing, lemme know if you want me to make dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

I headed back into my room and packed the two dresses. I tossed in a few shirts, a pair of jeans, a pair of leggings, a few pairs of shorts. I needed swim stuff, too, didn’t I?

I dug up the bikinis I’d bought over the summer. I had a yellow one, a black one, and a red one, all pretty plain, and then a pale blue floral one.

Fuck it. I threw them all in.

I had a sheer white cover-up that I threw in, too.

I threw in a pair of black flats, brown sandals, white flip-flops.

After that, it was toiletries, the Spider-Girl suit, makeup, stuff like that. I zipped up my suitcase, then emptied my backpack, refilling it with my laptop, a couple of books, headphones, my camera, a lip balm, chargers, my passport.

Once I was all packed up, I went into the kitchen and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then sat on the couch with my brothers, watching cartoons with them. Eventually, Dora came out and joined us, stealing a bite of my sandwich when she did.

We had a nice evening, the four of us siblings hanging out, pushing each other around on the couch, fighting for the remote.

***

I was up at six the next morning, getting dressed in sweats and my Vans and triple checking that I had everything. My wallet, my passport, enough bras-

Jesus, MJ, stop stressing. You’re supposed to relax, that’s why we’re going.

I was in the lobby of my building at 6:57, waiting with my suitcase and my backpack, pretending to look at my phone while I waited for Happy to pull up out front.

He pulled up two minutes later, getting out of the car and standing next to it. I walked out of the building.

“Morning, Happy.”

“Good morning, MJ.” He opened the door for me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Meh. Can’t complain. What about you?”

“It was nice. I had a bath. Have you heard of bath bombs? Those things are…spectacular.”

I laughed, giving him the handle of my suitcase and getting in the back seat.

I put my backpack between my feet and leaned against the window.

A few minutes later, Peter slid in next to me.

“Morning, buttercup,” I mumbled.

“Morning, princess.”

“Ooh, princess, that’s new.”

“Yeah, whatever, Michelle.”

The ride to the base was long, tense, and quiet. May was already at the base, with Tony, so she wasn’t here to chat with us and diffuse tension.

When we got to the base, Happy loaded Tony and May’s luggage into the back, and then they got into the car with us, Tony took over driving, Happy sat shotgun, and May slid in next to Peter so he and I were squished together.

“Hey, kids, how ya doing?” Tony asked.

“Tired but excited.”

“Me, too,” Peter said.

I ended up taking a nap in the car. I’d stayed up until one with Caleb and Jordan, throwing popcorn at the TV while we watched Jeopardy, and then I was up early, and I was kinda stressed about travelling, and the next thing I knew was waking up as the car came to a stop.

We were on a tarmac, and there was a giant fucking private jet twenty feet away.

Well, alright then. Guess this is life now.

We got out of the car, personnel loaded our luggage onto the plane, and they opened the plane door, steps leading up to the door.

Tony and May were holding hands, him walking behind her and looking at her like she was the prettiest woman alive.

To be fair, May was pretty fucking gorgeous.

Peter went up the steps before me.

I felt weird about this. I’d been on a plane once before, and I was terrified the full flight. Private jets seemed like a whole other ball game, and I was kind of scared.

But, I mean, Tony hadn’t given us a choice, so I went up the steps.

“Whoa,” I breathed.

There were freaking booths with small tables, couches, regular airport seats. The interior was gorgeous, too. Wooden panelling, leather upholstery…

Peter chuckled when he saw my face. “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction the first time.

May, Tony, and Peter were all sitting in a booth together, looking like a family.

I sat closer to the back of the plane, put my earphones in, and pulled out a book. I pulled my knees up to my chest and leaned against the wall.

Once we took off, I started to get nauseous. I really hated flying.

After about an hour, Tony came and sat across from me. I pulled out my earphones and closed my book.

“Hey, kid, you seem kind of lonely.”

I shrugged. “I’m pretty used to this.”

“Alright, well, either way, I’m crashing your party. What, uh, book are you reading?” I showed him the cover, and he read it out loud. “ _The Princess Saves Herself In This One_. Nice, is it good?”

“So far.”

“Have you ever read Maya Angelou?” Tony asked.

“No, it’s on my list, though.”

“There’s probably some in the library at the beach house. _And Still I Rise_ is my favourite. I think you’d like it.”

I smiled.

“Hey, do you, uh, want something to drink? Water? Coke? Ginger ale? Do you get nauseous on flights?”

I nodded. “A bit, yeah.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go, uh, find you some ginger ale. I don’t know where that flight attendant went- I’ll be right back, MJ.”

He got up and walked away. I closed my eyes, breathing deep and slow to try to calm my stomach. I was really glad I hadn’t eaten yet today.

Tony came and sat back down, putting a can of ginger ale in front of me.

“You’re looking a little pale, kid.”

“Yeah, I might’ve severely downplayed my fear of flying,” I said, voice strained as I cracked open the can.

Tony chuckled. “You remind me of me. I don’t think I’ve fully articulated a feeling ever.”

I laughed.

Tony sat with me for the rest of the flight. Part of me felt like he was kind of doing it out of pity, but it honestly kind of felt like father-daughter bonding, like when my dad used to take me out and we’d share fries from McDonald’s.

But it was really nice. We joked around, talked about poetry and Jane Austen books and bonded like hell.

And then we had to land. When we got closer to the ground, I tensed up.

“Last time I was in a plane, we landed so hard, my little brother got whiplash.”

Tony frowned. “Do you need a stress ball or something?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I might Hulk out or something, but I’ll be fine.”

Tony snorted. “You know, Bruce would probably take a little offence to that.”

“To be honest, I’m not really focused on that right now, Tony.”

“Alright, that’s fair.”

The landing was smooth, but I was digging my nails into the palms of my hand, hard enough to leave crescent imprints. Once we had landed and the plane had stopped, Tony stood up and squeezed my shoulder.

“You did great, kid.”

He went back over to May and Peter, and the three of them got up and collected their stuff.

I picked up my book, shoved my phone and earphones back into my pocket, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and caught up with them.

“Welcome to Arcata,” Tony said as he lead us off the plane. You could smell the salt in the air.

“Can we get lunch?” May asked. “Before we head back to the house?”

“Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna go do some grocery shopping so we have food in the house. You three go get lunch and I’ll pick you up after.”

May smiled. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Tony gave her a quick kiss, smiled at her, and then went into the airport to get the rental car.

The three of us went out to the arrivals area, got in a cab, and went to the first restaurant we saw.

It was this cute little diner off the highway with a yellow neon sign outside. We sat down in a booth inside. Peter ordered the biggest burger on the menu, May ordered a salad, and I ordered a water.

“MJ, are you not gonna get anything? You should eat.”

“I’m still feeling a little nauseous from the flight,” I said, kind of quietly. “I’ll eat later, when my stomach’s feeling better.”

May gave me a concerned look, but didn’t say anything else.

When the food got there, Peter moved his plate of fries so it was between him and I, wordlessly.

“Peter, seriously, I’m not hungry.”

“Just eat a couple. Humour me.”

I sighed and picked up a fry, but my stomach twisted.

It was one fry, I could handle it.

I forced it down, trying not to taste it, register it, nothing.

It really didn’t help the nausea, so I pushed the plate back across the table towards him. He started to push it back, and held out my hand, stopping him.

“Peter, if I eat another fry, I will barf all over this table. Just eat them and leave me to my water.”

He shrugged. “Fine. More for me.”

May looked between us, mildly amused.

She pulled out her phone and texted Tony, presumably telling him where we were.

We stayed there for another twenty minutes while May and Peter ate, and then Tony parked outside, so I left a couple minutes ahead of them to sit in the car.

“Hey, kid, how’re you feeling.”

“Gross. Peter made me eat a fry and now my stomach feels like it’s going to turn inside out.”

“Yeah, maybe not the best thing to order on an upset stomach. There’s crackers at the house.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it, kid.”

May and Peter came out and joined us, and then we got back on the highway and headed out of town.

Tony’s beach house was super private. There were four or five other houses along the beach, and no public entry. And boy, was it a nice beach. Pale sand that stretched out, slow, lazy waves coming in and out, sunlight reflecting off the water, making it glimmer.

“Can I move in?” I joked as we drove up.

Tony just laughed.

We unloaded the luggage and groceries from the back of the SUV and brought everything inside.

God, if I thought the beach was nice? The house was fucking extravagant. High ceilings, tons of natural lighting, stone flooring. The entryway was huge and well lit, the walls covered in expensive looking art. The kitchen was spacious, with granite counter tops, an island, the whole nine yards. The living room had three black leather couches, a glass coffee table, and a huge TV. There were two rooms that split off from the living room. The master bedroom, which I barely glanced at, and the library.

The second we were done putting groceries away, I went into the library, taking a second to stare. There were full floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, with first editions and signed copies everywhere.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ll be spending more time in here than on the beach?”

Tony was standing in the doorway.

I laughed. “Probably because I will.”

“Alright, well, as long as you try to get some sun. If we go back to New York and you’re somehow paler than I am, something’s wrong.”

I snorted. “Yeah, okay, I’ll get out as much as I can.”

“Here, lemme show you to your room.”

The upper floor was only half of the square footage of the main floor. There were two bedrooms with ensuites, a storage closet, and a reading nook that looked out over the ocean.

“I’m serious, Tony, I wanna live here.”

One bedroom door was closed, and, predictably, Tony led me into the other one. He’d already brought my suitcase and backpack into the room.

“I’ll let you get settled.”

The room was fucking gorgeous. Floor-to-ceiling windows with light gray blinds all pulled to the side. Pale hardwood flooring. A king sized bed with a dark wooden bed frame and pale yellow blankets thrown over. A long, cushiony couch that faced the windows. A desk and a rolling chair.

And then the bathroom? Fucking extravagant. Marble flooring. A bathtub with jets. A big-ass shower.

Yeah, I wanted to live here.

I spent some time unpacking, and then went downstairs to hang out for a while.

Peter was already in the kitchen, making a sandwich.

“Are you seriously eating already? We just got lunch.”

“It’s for you, Michelle. Ham, cheese, light mayo.”

I frowned. “That’s my favourite. How did you know?”

He shrugged, putting the sandwich together and holding it out. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spit in it.”

“Aw,” I whined with a fake pout. “Thanks, Peter.”

I sat down at the table and stared out the window. Maybe after I ate I’d go shower and put on a bikini.  

“Where are May and Tony?” I asked.

“Uh, May’s in their room. Tony’s filling up the hot tub.”

I stared at him. “There’s a hot tub?”

He pointed out the window. Sure enough, just off the side of the deck, there was a hot tub. I couldn’t see Tony, but he was probably tinkering around with something.

“This place is actual paradise.”

“I’m pretty sure just looking at a picture of this place has the same effect as an hour-long massage,” Peter added, sitting down at the table across from me.

I turned back to him, squinting. “Seriously, how did you know what my favourite sandwich is? Did you ask Ned?”

He started to shake his head, then said, “Yeah. Yep, I asked Ned. You got me.”

Obvious lie, but okay.

“I didn’t want you to whine about it,” he added, trying to sound snarky.

I ignored him and finished my sandwich.

“If Tony asks where I am, tell him I’m taking a nap.”

“Is that actually what you’re doing?”

“Yeah, Parker, I’m tired. Geez.”

I went upstairs and back into my room, closing all the blinds and getting into the bed.

It was comfy and the sheets were cool, so I fell asleep within a couple of minutes.

***

I only meant to sleep for half an hour, but I woke up three hours later.

I’d needed that sleep more than I cared to admit.

I went back downstairs, groggily rubbing my eyes.

“Hey, there you are!” May greeted as I came into the living room. “Tony’s gonna set up a fire and cook some hot dogs, you joining us?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Peter came in from the deck and went into the kitchen. “I finished cleaning out the coffee maker so do you guys want some coffee? I don’t think the fire’s gonna get big for a while so it might help warm you up.”

“That sounds lovely, honey.”

I shrugged. “As long as you don’t poison me.”

He opened the fridge and pulled out a package of hot dogs.

“Michelle, can you take this out to the fire?”

I took the package out of his hand. “Sure.”

I went outside and followed the scent of smoke and the faint sound of swearing around to the side of the house.

There was a fire pit and a few chairs all arranged around it, and Tony was throwing kindle into the pit.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Hi, MJ. How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well. I think I needed it.” I held up the hot dogs. “I’m here on a mission.”

“Ah, those are pretty important to a good bonfire. You can just set them on a chair.”

I put them down on the nearest chair. “Do you need help with anything?”

He frowned, looking at the fire. “I can’t quite seem to get a good solid start forming. Haven’t done this in years.”

I looked into the pit, then made a judgement call and blew on it. The fire immediately doubled in size.

“Needed a little oxygen.”

He nodded. “Right. Okay. You’re my helper now.”

“Fine by me,” I laughed. “Pretty small price to pay for a vacation like this.”

He sat down, then patted the seat next to him, so I sat with him.

“I’m surprised you and Peter haven’t killed each other yet, if I’m being honest.”

“So your response was to put us both in a fairly isolated location and see what happens?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I _am_ kind of curious to see what happens. I meant everything about you guys needing a break and needing to relax and stuff, but _Game of Thrones_ ended and I need some drama.”

I looked at him. “You’re an Avenger, how much more drama do you need?”

“It’s this whole freelance thing, though, you know? Like, if there were minor world-threatening disasters once a week, I’d be happy. Actually, no, my back can’t take that. Anyways, what I mean is, while I love helping you and Peter out and letting Pepper run the business and everything, that means all I do is tinker in the workshop, or watch _Game of Thrones_ in my office while pretending to do actual work.” He sighed. “Plus, I mean, for the sake of my sanity and the well-being of Manhattan, I need you two to work out whatever teenage hormones are at play.”

I snorted. “If you think this is gonna end well for anybody-”

“I don’t know, kid, it just might.”

I heard the back door open, and Peter came out holding two coffees.

“One black coffee and one with cream,” Peter said, handing a mug to Tony and one to me. “Heh, I feel like a real intern.”

I looked into my mug. “How’d you know I like cream in my coffee?”

He hesitated. “I- you told me.”

“No, I didn’t. I told you not to poison me.”

“Oh- I-”

“Peter,” Tony interrupted, “can you grab the metal prong things I bought at the grocery store?”

“Sure, Mr. St- Tony.”

I’d flustered him. Wasn’t hard by any means, but it was weird.

I took a sip of my coffee.

It was perfect.

That made me a little wary of him. Had he been spying on me? Stalking me? How else would he know stuff like this?

He went back inside, and then a couple minutes later he and May came out, each holding a mug, Peter also wielding three long metal skewers. May sat on the other side of Tony, so Peter moved the hot dogs off the chair next to me and sat down.

“Only three?” I asked, pointing at the metal skewers Peter was holding. They were long and thin, with wooden handles, and pointy at the tip, clearly meant for roasting things over fires.

Peter shrugged. “Didn’t see a fourth.”

“Peter, pass me a metal thingie,” Tony said. Peter passed it over me. Tony handed it to May, then held out his hand for another.

As Peter handed Tony a second metal skewer, May asked, “Do you think the fire’s big enough to start roasting hot dogs?”

“Uh, put another log on and give it a couple minutes,” I said.

“What, are you an expert?” Peter asked.

“My dad used to take my siblings and I camping all the time when we were younger, so yes, yes I am.”

He rolled his eyes, passing me the last metal skewer. Tony tossed another log on, and we waited for the fire to get big enough.

As I reached for the package of hot dogs, Peter jumped up. “I gotta- I’m gonna get the buns and condiments and stuff.”

“Want me to roast one for you?” May asked.

“Yes, please!”

I took a hot dog out of the package and passed it down. I speared the hot dog on my skewer and held it out over the fire, slowly twirling it.

Peter came back a couple minutes later, holding a bag of buns and bottles of ketchup and mustard.

May lifted her hot dog off of the fire and held it out past Tony and I, so Peter could grab it. He pulled it off the skewer and put it in a bun, squirting a ridiculous amount of mustard and ketchup onto it.

“Seriously, Parker? Are you trying to drown it?”

“What? I just like having a lot of ketchup and mustard, sue me.”

I huffed to myself, putting my focus back on the fire.

“You’re so judgemental,” he mumbled under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

I could see Tony and May exchanging an amused look.

“Nothing.”

“No, say it to my face, Peter.”

He sighed. “You’re being judgemental.”

“Dude, you’ve got mustard dripping off your hot dog, how can that taste good?”

“I just- I like it! I don’t know why you’re so hard to please, Michelle, I made you a sandwich, and-and coffee- just how you like it, by the way-”

“How the fuck would you even know that? What are you, my stalker?”

“I’m not- I’m not stalking you-”

“How else would you know that shit, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever told Ned how I like my coffee, so you can’t say you asked him.”

Peter hesitated for a second and then stammered out, “H-hey, you’re just-just trying to, uh, distract me from the- from your superiority complex.”

“My superiority complex?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Yeah! You think you’re better than everyone and-and that your way is the only way to do things, and you’re judging me for how I like my hot dogs! How petty do you have to be?”

“You wanna see petty?” I snapped.

“Sure, princess, show me petty,” he shot back.

I dropped my skewer, hot dog still attached, into the fire pit, letting my hot dog burn. Then I stood up, grabbing the mustard bottle and squirting mustard all over his shirt, then dropped the bottle in his lap.

“There, since you like mustard so much.”

I stormed back into the house, and went back up to my room.

Later that night, when Peter was already in his room, Tony came upstairs and knocked on his door.

“Hey, buddy, is the mustard coming out of your shirt?” His voice was muffled by the walls, but I could still hear him.

“Yeah, kinda,” came Peter’s sullen reply.

“Alright, get some rest and we’ll have a beach day tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

“You, too.”

A few seconds later, there was a knock on my door. I opened it. Tony was holding a hot dog with an acceptable amount of ketchup and mustard.

“Hey, you didn’t eat.”

“Oh, right,” I said, taking the hot dog. “Sorry I kind of, uh, caused a scene.”

“It’s alright. Nobody got hurt.”

“Thanks for the food.”

“Yeah, of course. Get some rest, we’re having a beach day tomorrow.”

“You too, Tony.”

He laughed. “I haven’t known rest in years, MJ,” he joked. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.”

He gave me a smile and started walking away, so I closed the door and sat down to eat my hot dog and stare out the window.


	6. peter fucking parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw i write these chapters on my own and don't have like a beta reader or anything so i apologize for typos and shit

I was up bright and early. I put on my yellow bikini, slathered myself in sunscreen, threw on my cover-up, grabbed my book, and went downstairs.

Peter was already sitting at the table, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, eating a bowl of cereal. His hair was sticking out in every direction.

“Are you not hanging out on the beach today?” I asked, going into the pantry to get a box of cereal out.

“I just rolled out of bed,” he said, his tone flat and bitter. “I’ll change after I eat.”

“Are Tony and May already down on the beach?”

“Yeah.”

I looked at the clock. “Geez. Tony really doesn’t sleep.”

I made myself a bowl of cereal and sat down. After a long period of awkward silence, Peter moved to get up.

“Wait,” I said, immediately regretting it.

“What?”

“I, um, I owe you an apology for last night.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

I tried to ignore that comment. “I shouldn’t have squirted mustard all over you and I’m sorry if I ruined your shirt.”

“I managed to get the stain out. Anyways, apology accepted.” He still sounded cold and bitter, but that was the end of the conversation. He put his dishes in the dishwasher and went upstairs.

I finished eating, put my dishes away, grabbed a towel, and went down to the beach.

It was hot and toasty, which was welcome since New York was so chilly right now. I put my towel on the sand, laid down on my stomach, facing the water, and opened my book.

This was the best day possible. It was a quiet beach, I could hear Tony and May talking quietly to each other, there was no wind, the ocean was tranquil, the sun felt hot on my back, and my book was really good.

I felt good and relaxed and happy.

After a while, I flipped over and laid on my back to read, my arms sore from propping myself up. The sun was on my face, and I started to get kinda sleepy. This was maybe just a little too relaxing.

I put the book down and sat up for a minute, hoping to maybe wake up a little.

There was a guy out in the water wearing neon green swim trunks, facing the horizon. And boy, he was ripped. I could see the definition in his back muscles, arms, shoulders, and the water dripping down his body. I couldn’t see his face, but he had dark wet curls that were dripping more water onto his body.

I wondered which house he was staying in and if I could find a smooth way to introduce myself.

And then, to my dismay, he turned around, I saw his face, and had to come to terms with the fact that I’d briefly been very attracted to _Peter_.

I laid back down and picked up my book. How had I not noticed Peter coming outside? How had I not put together than only that nerd would wear _neon green_ trunks? How had I not realized he was so hot?

I wasn’t even reading the words on the page, I was just staring at them while berating myself in my head. Of fucking course I had to get all turned on by Peter Fucking Parker, because that’s the cruelest fucking thing that could’ve happened to me.

Couldn’t fucking booty call anybody, either, because I didn’t know anybody here, especially not well enough to sleep with them.

I hated him. Holy shit, I hated him.

“You haven’t turned a page in five minutes.”

The voice startled me from my thoughts, and I dropped the book on my face.

Peter laughed. “Good job, Michelle.”

I pulled the book off my face and sat up. “Why are you paying such close attention to me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve just never seen you stare blankly at a book. You getting heat stroke or something?” he teased, sitting down next to me.

“Hold up, don’t just sit your white ass down with me. I’m trying to get in some light reading _alone_.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re real productive right now.”

I smacked him with the book. “Peter, you’re such a fucking pest.”

“Geez, who spat in your cereal?”

“Why are you in such a good mood? You hated me at breakfast.”

“I didn’t hate you at breakfast, Michelle, that’s ridiculous. Besides, I don’t understand how you can be here, in this weather, and _not_ be in a good mood.”

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s because you’re here.”

Peter laughed, running his hand through his hair to get wet curls out of his face. Jesus, how was he so happy and carefree right now? Also, how _dare_ he be so goddamn hot right now? “Okay, come on, put down the book and get in the water.” He pulled the book out of my hand and then stood up.

“Peter. Peter, I swear to god-”

“Come on, dude, we’re on the beach!” He wrapped a hand around my wrist and started to pull me up. My garbage brain imagined him pinning my hand to a bed. Jesus, I needed to gain some self control. Fuck this guy and his stupid defined muscles and washboard abs and gorgeous hair-

“No, Peter, I’m gonna fucking kill you-”

He just laughed, pulling me up easily, tossing my book onto the towel.

“Don’t- Peter, I don’t wanna-”

“Take off the cover-up, Michelle, because you’re getting in the water either way.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You asking me to undress?”

He laughed it off again, his hand going to the hem of my cover-up. I swatted his hand away, mostly because I knew if I let him pull it off of me, that’d be all I could think about for the rest of the day. I pulled it off myself, tossing it onto the towel.

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, whatever, just get in the water, Michelle.” He didn’t even sound annoyed. What the fuck?

He pulled me into the water, which was pleasantly cold in contrast to the hot sand. He didn’t stop until we were waist deep.

“Well, what now, genius?”

He grinned, then splashed me. I squealed, turning my head away so it didn’t get in my eyes.

“Oh, you asshole!”

I splashed him back, but he was already running away, into deeper water, laughing his ass off. I barely hit him.

I started to chase after him, wishing I had a goddamn web shooter on me so I could web him and then fucking douse him.

“Get back here!”

I managed to get in a good splash, and then he turned around and splashed me right back, dousing all of my hair.

He seemed to realize his mistake. You really can’t get curly hair wet and expect not to get murdered.

I sucked in a breath and then tackled him, knocking him over, both of us falling into the water. We wrestled for a bit, each of us trying to stay on top of the other, but we were also slowly running out of oxygen. He grabbed my ankle and pulled it upwards to try to tip me backwards, so I reached forward and grabbed his shoulder, using him to push myself up and get closer to the surface. He yanked my ankle, pulling me further underwater.

For a second, I paused and looked at him. Sunlight was coming through the water in beams, lighting him up. His hair was floating around him in a halo. He looked kind of…angelic.

Wow, I was really running low on oxygen.

I reached forward and pulled the string on his trunks, untying the bow, and while he was distracted, I pulled my ankle loose and pushed myself up to the surface.

I got two breaths in before Peter’s hands landed on my waist, pulling me down and he rose to the surface. Somehow, in the time it took me to get two breaths in, he’d retied the strings on his trunks. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, scrambling to get on top of him, putting my knees on his chest and pushing him down. He tried to push me off, but I managed to grab his wrists, so he couldn’t do anything. He tried to twist to get on top, but I shifted my weight from side to side, pulling his arms so he couldn’t pull away. He gave up, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back.

Well, now I felt bad.

I let go and got off of him, pushing up towards the surface, and he followed. We took a few seconds to catch our breaths, and then we both looked at each other and laughed.

“Thanks for trying to drown me,” Peter breathed, running his hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

“Oh, anytime, Parker,” I teased back, turning and starting to head back to shore.

I felt water splash against my back. I whipped around, and he hurriedly crossed his arms and looked away. I splashed him back.

“Are you asking for a rematch?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Peter, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who came out on top.”

He ran at me and tried to tackle me, but I ducked aside and watched him face plant into the water. While I was laughing at him, his hand hooked around behind my knee and pulled, and I fell back into the water. He was immediately on top of me, hands on my shoulders and knees on my hips, pinning me down. I reached up to try to push him off, but he started to grab my hands. I jerked my hips to the side and made a break for the surface. I hadn’t taken a breath in before he’d pulled me under, and my lungs were burning.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back, the back of my head hitting his shoulder. I could feel his abs against my back.

He started to wrap a leg around me, trying to keep me contained, but I kicked him off.

Wrestling with the guy I hated most on the whole planet should not be getting me all hot and bothered, but his crotch was pressing against my ass and his arms were wrapped firmly around me and, shit, if I didn’t remind myself that this was Peter, I was fucked.

I couldn’t pull free, no matter how much I struggled, but I was starting to panic because I was definitely out of air. I balled up a fist and hit his thigh a few times until he figured out what was going on. He let me go, and I pushed off of him to get to air.

I stood there, panting for a few seconds, desperately trying to catch my breath.

When he emerged from the water, he was laughing.

“Call it a tie?”

I glared at him. “Dude, you almost fucking drowned me and you’re laughing?”

“What? You pinned me down last time!”

“I didn’t wait until you were panicking to let you go!” I shouted, shoving him. He fell backwards, water splashing in all directions.

“Hey, once I realized you needed to breathe, I let you go!” he sputtered.

“Yeah, and then you fucking laughed about it, you asshole!”

I started to walk back to shore, and I heard him wading through the water to catch up.

“Michelle, hey, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, buttercup.”

I got back to shore. Tony and May had obviously been watching us.

“Team bonding?” Tony sounded so hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe if Peter hadn’t tried to drown me.”

“I wasn’t trying to drown you!” he protested, catching up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. I grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. He yelped.

“Hey!” May shouted. “No sparring at the beach!”

I let him go. Tony was stifling laughter.

“Solid maneuver, though, Michelle,” he chuckled.

I ignored all three of them and laid back down on my towel, closing my eyes. Peter was smart enough to stick by May and Tony and not continue to bother me.

How fucking _dare_ he be able to turn me on while actively depriving me of oxygen.

I still couldn’t breathe properly. I could still feel his hands wrapped around my wrists or his arms wrapped around my waist or his abs against my back-

Jesus Christ, I refused to be horny for Peter Fucking Parker.

I tried to distract myself, mentally replaying vines as I baked in the sun.

***

I woke up a little while later. I blinked my eyes open, squinting against the sunlight. My first thought was that I should probably flip over so the front of my body didn’t tan more than the back, so I did, crossing my arms and resting my head on them again. Why was the sun making me so goddamn sleepy?

I let myself start to doze off again, and then May came over, gently touching my shoulder.

“Hey, honey, I’m gonna go in and make some lunch, do you wanna take a break from the heat with me?”

I looked up. She was smiling, and looked hopeful, so I nodded, standing him.

“Just leave your stuff, we’ll be back out.”

I followed her back into the house, trying to shake my grogginess.

“Sun making you sleepy?”

“Yeah, a bit. I took a whole nap.”

She chuckled. “I figured. Wrestling with Peter tuckered you both out. He passed out on Tony for a bit, too.”

I laughed. “Aww.”

I waited at the island while May opened the fridge. “What do you want for lunch, MJ?”

“Oh, um-”

May laughed. “Sorry, that’s a broad question. Sandwich?”

“Yeah, sounds good to me.”

She started pulling meat, cheese, and condiments out of the fridge. “You wanna help?”

“Yeah, of course.”

We took turns washing our hands in the kitchen sink, then started assembling sandwiches. Tony and Peter liked turkey sandwiches, May and I both liked ham (but she opted for butter instead of mayo).

I assembled May and I’s sandwiches and she assembled Tony’s and Peter’s. She wrapped up the guys’ sandwiches in clingwrap and set them aside, then got out two plates. We cleaned up the kitchen then sat at the table.

“I, um, I know it’s really just…none of my business, but I can’t figure out what’s going on with you and Peter.”

I snorted. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Seriously, MJ, I just…I can’t figure out why you guys don’t like each other.”

I hesitated. “I think maybe we’re too similar. I don’t know, we just…butt heads. A lot. I wish we didn’t, because it’d make my life a lot easier.”

She sighed. “Sometimes a point of contact is a point of friction.”

“Pardon?”

“Sometimes two people just aren’t meant to get along, and you can’t force it. The thing I can’t figure out is…he won’t talk about you. He talks about that kid Flash and how much he can’t stand him, but he shuts down when it comes to you.”

I didn’t know what to say. What was that supposed to mean?

“Sorry, I know it’s none of my business.”

“Well, no, it kind of us,” I countered. “He’s your nephew.”

She fell silent for a second, chewing on her sandwich. It was a comfortable silence, though. We ate our lunches in silence for a while.

“He’s a really sweet kid,” May said to me. “And I know from what Ned’s said about you that you are, too. I don’t know what goes on between you two, but it’s like you’re…like you’re bringing out the worst in each other. I don’t get it.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know either. It’s- I- I don’t feel like _me_ around him.”

She gave me a sad look. There was another long silence as we finished our sandwiches.

I stood up first. “Here, I’ll take your plate.”

“Thank you, MJ.”

I took her plate and put both of ours in the dishwasher, then picked up Tony and Peter’s sandwiches.

“You coming back out?” I asked her.

“I think I’m gonna stay in the AC for a few more minutes,” she told me, gesturing for me to still go out.

“Okay, enjoy.”

I went back outside, walking over to wear Tony and Peter were sitting and chilling.

“Hey, I brought lunch.”

“Did you poison mine?” Peter quipped.

“I’m about to go back and poison it, buttercup.”

Tony, as per usual, looked thoroughly amused. He took both sandwiches from me. “Thank you, MJ.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

I gave Peter one last dirty look before I went back to my towel, picked my book up again, and laid on my stomach to read.

I kept reading until I’d finished the book, getting sucked in. When I was done, I kinda wanted to just…think about it. Let it settle in, I guess. So I put the book back down and went and sat at the water’s edge. It was starting to cool off a little, but it was still warm, so the water on my feet felt nice. I was sitting with my legs bent, feet flat on the sand, hands flat on the sand behind me.

Tony came and sat down next to me.

“How was the book?”

“Really good. Kinda made my brain hurt, but good.”

“Those are the best. I’m impressed, by the way. You were reading that poetry book yesterday, and the book you just read had to be, what, eight hundred, nine hundred pages? And you read it in one day.”

“I’m a fast reader and I have a good memory, so I go through books like crazy.”

He laughed. “I was like that in high school, too. And then I went to MIT and I didn’t have time to read for fun. I should get back to that,” he mused.

We sat there in silence for a long time. I extended my legs, the water coming halfway up my thigh.

“My hair’s probably wild right now,” I realized.

Tony looked at me, then snorted. “Yeah, kinda.”

I laughed. “I’ll wash it when we go inside.”

We stayed there for a little while longer, then Tony got up. “I’m gonna go inside, I feel like I’ve been in the sun too long.”

“Alright. I’ll be in soon.”

He patted my shoulder a couple times as he walked off.

There were so many emotions going through my head. I was still thinking about fucking Peter, which was making me angry and kind of horny at the same time. There were a million thoughts from the book swirling around, too, which confused everything. But I also felt somehow peaceful about the whole thing, maybe because I was staring directly at the horizon.

I heard Peter and May chatting as they went inside, which I figured was an indication that it was getting late and I should probably go in, but I was kind of enjoying being alone.

I stayed there for a few more minutes, then got up, picked up my book, cover-up, and towel, then went inside, shaking the towel off as I did.

Tony had piled up all the towels on the deck, so I tossed mine on top then went in.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said, looking up from his phone at me as I walked in.

“Hi.”

“You look like you’ve tanned already.”

“Yeah, I tan so fast. I’m gonna be, like, another two shades darker tomorrow. I’m gonna go up and take a shower. When’s dinner?”

May was in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables. “If I get this right, an hour. If I don’t…an hour and however long it takes to order takeout.”

I laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

I went upstairs into my room, got a towel and a change of clothes, and took a long ass shower. I considered maybe getting a little…creative with the showerhead, just so I could get rid of my weird sexual thoughts about Peter, but I was trying to wash my hair, put my products in, and dry my hair before dinner was ready, so I didn’t really have time to get myself off.

Anyways, I was kind of bitter about the fact that Peter had managed to get me all hot and bothered, so I didn’t wanna jerk off to the thought of his stupid muscles.

I washed, conditioned, shaved, exfoliated. I felt luxurious. I got out, dried off, got dressed, drenched my hair in curl jelly, blow dried it, and then tied it up in a bun and went downstairs.

When I got downstairs, Peter was sitting on the couch on his phone, hair dry and fluffy, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. May was sitting at the table, talking on the phone, Tony standing behind her, playing absentmindedly with her hair and staring out the window.

I moved Peter’s feet off the couch so I could sit down.

“Ned says hi,” he mumbled, barely glancing up from his phone.

“Oh.” I pulled out my phone to see I had three texts from Ned.

_Neddy Bear: how’s it going in paradise?_

_Neddy Bear: have you attempted murder yet?_

_Neddy Bear: I’m assuming not bc he’s still alive to text me_

_Me: I mean we did try to drown each other for a while earlier_

_Neddy Bear: yeah he told me lol_

_Neddy Bear: he feels bad about it man_

_Me: yeah whatever_

“MJ?” May asked. “Do you have any allergies?”

“Nope.”

“Do you have any preference?”

I shrugged. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.”

She smiled, then went back to speaking into the phone.

_Neddy Bear: met any other guys since you’ve been there?_

_Me: nah the beach is pretty quiet_

_Me: kinda wish I had though_

_Neddy Bear: oh?_

_Neddy Bear: does this have anything to do with peter? ;) ;) ;)_

_Me: jesus ned_

_Me: he’s peter_

_Neddy Bear: yeah exactly_

_Neddy Bear: I’m just hoping you two somehow resolve all of your sexual tension before you get back_

_Me: ned shut up about it nothing’s gonna happen_

_Neddy Bear: mhmmm okay whatever you say mj_

Peter snorted at his phone. I looked up, raising an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“Something funny?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

We stayed there, the two of us both texting Ned in silence. It took another half hour for the food to get here, at which point Tony went to the front door and Peter and I sat down at the table. Tony came back, putting two plastic bags on the table and handing out the boxes of food and chopsticks.

May seemed to keep an eye on Peter and I, making sure the two of us ate enough. Tony and I talked about university applications, and he gave me some book recommendations. I offered to lend him the book I’d read today, and gave him the title.

I realized how long it’d been since I’d eaten dinner at the table like a family. My parents were usually home late, my siblings’ schedules were all over the place and they seemed to come and go as they pleased, and I was always either at the compound or out patrolling. This was…really nice. The whole atmosphere was warm and inviting. There was tons of conversation.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling it out of my pocket.

_Mom: How’s the beach?_

_Mom: Dora misses you_

_Me: It’s really nice._

_Me: We’re eating dinner right now, I’ll call you later_

I put my phone away again, going back to the conversation.

“Is everything okay?” May asked.

“Oh, yeah,” I assured her, “my mom was just checking in on me.”

Everyone else at the table seemed to tense up, and I realized that I was, like, a foster kid in family. Separate.

“Well, that’s good,” May said. “Um, Peter, what were you saying?”

The conversation resumed, but now I felt kind of separate from everything.

I finished eating, quickly and quietly.

“-so I think we’re going on that ski trip,” Peter was saying, “because Ned and I have been talking about it since freshman year and-”

I quietly started to stand up, but Peter stopped cold.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I’m, um, finished, so I figured I’d just call my mom because it’s later in New York and I don’t wanna keep her up or anything.”

May and Tony looked at each other, then looked back at me and nodded.

I threw out my boxes and chopsticks, and Peter kept talking about the ski trip, but eyed me as I left the kitchen.

I went upstairs, into my room, and dialled my mom’s number. It rang twice before she picked up.

“Hey, Shelley,” she said.

“Hey, Mom.”

“How’s the beach? Is it nice?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice weather here.”

“Ah, November in Cali,” she sighed. I laughed.

“You’re gonna be so jealous of my tan when I get back.”

“Oh, I hate you,” she teased. “Has Mr. Stark been nice to you?”

“Yeah, he’s been great. He has this library here, and it’s huge, so I might just curl up with a book tonight.”

Mom laughed. “Only you would rather sit with a book when you’re at the beach. Anyways, um, do you wanna talk to Dora?”

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a bit of rustling and muffled conversation, and then my sister’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Hey, MJ.”

“Hi, Dora, how’s your break going?”

“I mean, it’s cold and Caleb and Jordan keep fighting. Also, all my friends are out of town. Oh, and you haven’t sent me any beach pics yet, so I’m kinda salty about that.”

I laughed. “I’ll send you some in a sec. Do you need me to straighten out the twins?”

“Nah, I’ve got ‘em.” God, Dora was such a little badass. I loved her. “I’m gonna let you get back to beach stuff. Text me pics!”

She hung up.

I went to my window and took a couple of pictures from there, and then went back downstairs to get to the library. Tony, May, and Peter were cleaning up.

“How’s your family?” May asked.

“They’re good.”

I went into the library, found one of the books Tony recommended, then went back upstairs. I caught Peter giving me a weird look as I went back upstairs.

I curled up on the couch, facing the window, and started to read. I got maybe an hour in before there was a knock at my door.

I assumed it was Tony, so I went and answered, but it was Peter, fidgeting and staring at me.

“What do you want, Parker?”

He hesitated. “Is…is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you just…you seemed kind of…withdrawn after your mom texted.”

“Withdrawn?” I asked, crossing my arms. He was right, but I didn’t like it.

“I don’t know,” he blurted, flustered, “I just wanted to make sure you’re not like…homesick or something.”

“I’m a big girl, Parker, I’m fine,” I said sharply, going to close the door. He put his hand out, blocking it, then stepped into my room.

“I’m- listen, Michelle, I just don’t want you to feel like you’re, I don’t know, detached.”

“Detached from what?”

“I- well- Tony’s like…kind of like a dad, and May’s basically my mom, because she raised me, and then you’re…new.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “What, so because I’m not a part of your big happy family, I’m supposed to sulk about it?”

He ran his hand through his hair, getting more agitated. “That’s not- no, I wanted to- I don’t want you to be upset that’s why I-”

“I don’t need you poking into my business, Peter.”

He laughed bitterly, looking to the side. I know we were in the middle of arguing, but damn, that was a nice jawline. “Why are you like this? You complain that I’m cold and then I try to- try to show you I care and-”

I scoffed. “Right. You care so much. Enough to ask Tony over and over to kick me from the internship.”

“That- Michelle, that was weeks ago, and that wasn’t- you heard it out of context-”

“Then give me context, Peter! What do I need to know in order to understand?”

He looked at me, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it. He looked down, curls falling forward. “I-I can’t. I can’t tell you.”

“Right. Of course. Because there isn’t anything else to understand, is there?”

“Michelle, that’s not-”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Parker! Get out of my room!”

He looked up at me, eyes wide and almost shiny at first, but then he hardened. “You’ve got no idea what I’ve had to do in the suit, Michelle-”

I crossed my arms, refusing to acknowledge how hot he looked when he got angry. “I just told you I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I had to watch my uncle die, and then I-”

“I swear, Peter, if I have to hear the _stupid_ Vulture thing again-”

“I’ve had to do so much worse, Michelle! I’ve watched Tony die, okay? And you and Ned and Liz and-and-and you have no idea because I can’t fucking talk about it!”

He was shaking and breathing hard. Also kind of hot, but I was pissed, so I didn’t pay attention to that.

“I think you just did, buttercup.”

He glared at me. “I can’t believe I got stuck with you.”

And then he stormed out, slamming my door shut behind him. I flinched, and then flinched again as his door slammed shut a few seconds later.

I started to get ready for bed, trying to distract myself and maybe relax a little. My heart was pounding hard and fast, and my muscles were tense. I went into the bathroom and started to go through my skincare routine.

I don’t think I’d ever seen Peter angry like that. It was kinda scary, but also weirdly attractive.

And then my brain went right back to where it was earlier on the beach, thinking about his abs and back muscles and arms. I couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid fucking boy.

I changed into a t-shirt and shorts and got into bed.

This was stupid. This was so fucking stupid. He was just some guy.

But then I was thinking about his crotch pressed against my ass, and his arms around my waist. I remembered being on top of him, pinning him down, seeing his head tip back, eyes closed-

I turned onto my side, trying to put that out of my head. I just had to go to sleep or think of something else. Like…like…like…

Fuck.

I turned onto my other side. There was no way Peter was getting the best of me right now.

All I could think about was every time he’d touched me. His arms scooping me up when I’d been shot. His hand grabbing my arm before I fell down the stairs at the party. His fingers wrapping around my wrist, pulling me up to drag me into the water.

Fine. Fucking _fine._

I turned onto my back, letting my eyes drift shut. There was a montage going through my head, just of him.

I pushed my hand into my shorts, starting to touch myself.

Once I let it happen, the thoughts of him were overwhelming. I could almost feel his hands on my waist, like they’d been when he pulled me back under the water. I kept imagining him breathing heavily, like he’d been when we were fighting, but on top of me, hands on me, lips on me.

I was so far gone.

I pushed fingers into myself, moaning, imagining Peter’s hands instead of my own.

I could see him, clear as day. His jawline, his curls, his brown eyes. I sped up my movements, my head falling to the side. His back muscles, with water glistening over his skin. I was panting now, my hand getting sore as I sped up more. I found myself moaning his name, over and over, until my back arched up off the bed and I finished.

I settled back down, breath returning to normal, pulling my hand out of my shorts.

There were pros and cons to what had just happened. On the downside, I’d just gotten off to the thought of Peter Fucking Parker. On the bright side, the intrusive thoughts about his body were gone, and I’d gotten rid of whatever energy was making me so restless.

I turned back onto my side, feeling much more relaxed. My eyelids started to feel heavy, so I let them fall shut.

I was glad I’d gotten that out of my system. Hopefully I’d just be able to relax and ignore him for the rest of the trip.


	7. princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from Peter's POV

I stood with my ear pressed against the wall. I could hear Michelle moaning, easily, from where I was laying in bed, but then I thought…

No, she wouldn’t have-

“Peter.”

It was quiet and muffled, but that was her voice, and it was definitely a moan.

I jumped back. I felt wrong, intruding on her like this. I had to remind myself that she wasn’t the MJ I’d known, she was Michelle.

Cold, hard Michelle. Not the MJ who told me I was pretty in Europe. Not the MJ who played with my hair when I was sleepy. Not the MJ I fell in love with in another lifetime. Not the MJ I had to watch die, over and over and over, because of Thanos.

Michelle. Same face, different person.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Peter, Peter, _Peter_.”

Her voice was getting louder and more desperate, until I could hear it from halfway across the room without even trying.

I knew exactly what she was doing. I could almost picture her, her head tipped back, lips parted, curls spilling out across her pillow, maybe a couple strands of hair in her face-

This was bad.

I felt like a pervert.

I got back into bed and pulled the pillow over my head. I could hear her give one last shout, and then it went quiet. I was too scared to take the pillow off of my head, in case I could hear anything else, so I tried to think about something else. _Anything_ else.

Decathlon. Studying. Meetings. Teammates. Michelle.

Okay. Not decathlon.

School. Lunch. Ned. Star Wars. MJ’s head on my shoulder.

I didn’t want MJ in my head. She was gone.

Mr. Stark. Tony. Christmas with May, Tony, and MJ.

I got up, throwing my pillow across the room.

Okay, I needed a walk.

I tip-toed out of my room, going down the hall, down the stairs, and through the kitchen.

“Hey, kid.”

I yelped in surprise. Tony was laying across the couch and I hadn’t seem him. I tried to compose myself as quickly as possible.

“H-hey, Mr- Tony. Tony. Hi. Why are- why are you still up?” I stammered, scratching the back of my neck.

He held up a book titled _Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs._ “Doing some light reading. Also, I heard you and MJ yelling and I was a little worried.”

I looked down. “It was nothing.”

He closed the book, sitting up. “You doing alright? You look upset.”

I swallowed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just…think I’m gonna go for a walk.” My voice was starting to crack, and I could feel the tingle in my nose. All I could think about right now was when I’d sat with Tony across my lap as he took his final breaths, even though he was right in front of me, happy, healthy, and alive.

He frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just…I need to be alone right now.” My voice broke on the last word, and I just made a beeline for the back door. I made it out before Tony could stop me, then ran down to the beach, tears already falling down my face.

I sat down in the sand, telling myself I’d change when I got inside, and let my forehead fall into my knees, hugging my arms around my knees and sobbing.

It all came flooding back, like it’d been yesterday. Mr. Stark gasping desperately for air, trying to get in last words. His eyes glazing over, his hands going limp, falling away from me.

_“I need you to-to know that-”_

_“Stop talking, you need your energy,” I’d sobbed, trying desperately to stop the bleeding._

_“No, I-I don’t. Peter, I need you-need you to know that-that I love you.”_

_“I love you, too, Dad.”_

I could still see his lips lifting at the corners, his hand reaching up to push hair away from my face. And then his face relaxing and his hand falling away.

I couldn’t breathe, I was crying so hard.

“Kid?”

I felt Tony sit down next to me, and I couldn’t help but unravel, falling against him, sobbing into his hoodie.

“Hey, hey, Peter, I’ve got you.”

He wrapped his arms around me, letting me cry it all out.

***

I woke up the next morning on the couch in my room. My head was pounding, likely from dehydration.

When I checked my phone, I had one new message.

_Mr. Stark: hey kid drink some water and then come downstairs_

I sighed, shooting him back a quick text, then went into the bathroom. I looked like I’d been through the ringer. My eyes were pink and puffy, the bags under them were purple, and my hair was a mess.

I didn’t have the energy to try to fix it. I brushed my teeth, downed three glasses of water, splashed some cold water on my face, then went downstairs, still in the sweatpants I’d fallen asleep in.

Michelle was in the kitchen, sitting on the counter talking to May, holding a half-eaten piece of toast. Her hair was in this big bun on the top of her head, little curls framing her face.

Not my MJ. I had to remember that.

Tony came in from the porch. “Morning, kid. How you feeling?”

That’s when Michelle noticed I’d come downstairs. Before I could answer Tony, she said, “Whoa, Parker, you look like hell.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I said coldly, crossing to May. She stopped what she was doing and met me halfway.

“Honey, everything okay?” she asked, pushing hair out of my face and then putting her hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep a lot,” I lied, wincing internally as I did.

“You can take a nap later, if you need to.”

Tony came through the kitchen, patting my shoulder as he did. I knew he was the same as the Mr. Stark I knew before, but sometimes it shocked me a little.

“Yeah, I might.”

“We’re going into town for lunch at one, so if you wanna go back to bed for an hour and then get dressed up, that’s probably the best idea,” Tony said.

“How dressed up do I have to be?” I asked.

Tony shrugged. “Like, fancy, but not black tie fancy, you know?”

I glanced at May for reassurance. “No, I don’t know.”

“So, like, a button down and nice jeans,” Michelle cut in. “Or slacks, if you have them. Right?”

Tony nodded at Michelle. “May, you packed the dress I gave you, right?”

“Yep.” She looked back at me. “You look really tired, honey, do you wanna just go back to bed?”

I nodded. “Yeah, maybe just for a bit.”

I could see Michelle staring at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with her. I could still hear her voice from last night, ringing in my ears.

_“Peter, Peter, Peter-”_

May’s voice cut through the memory. “Okay, Pete, I’ll come check on you in an hour.”

“Mkay.”

She kissed my forehead, then turned me around, and I went back upstairs. I could feel Michelle’s eyes on me, the whole time I was walking away.

I got back into my room and changed into a fresh pair of sweatpants, that didn’t have sand on the butt, and fell into bed.

But then all I could do was stare at the opposite wall, and think about the noises that had been coming through it last night.

I missed the good old days, when it was as simple as ditching my sophomore homecoming to fight my date’s dad as he tried to steal alien technology from Mr. Stark.

Okay, maybe I missed days a little further back than that. When it was as simple as sitting in Ned’s room watching TV past our bedtimes.

I let my thoughts drift back to that, and slowly relaxed enough to fall asleep.

***

“Hey, honey.”

May’s voice was soft, and her hand was gentle on my shoulder. I groaned softly as I sat up.

“Did you sleep well?”

I blinked a few times. “Yeah, I think so.”

She smiled. “Okay, good. You certainly look better. We’re leaving in about forty-five minutes, so get ready and come downstairs.”

As she left the room, I realized I could hear Michelle’s music coming through the wall. When I listened closer, I could hear her singing along to it. I stayed still for a minute, closing my eyes and listening.

Wait, no, I had to get up.

I got up and took a shower, then got dressed. I had a light blue button down that I’d bought for a school dance, and a dark pair of jeans, so I wore that, rolling the sleeves up to my elbows so I didn’t get too hot.

Then there was a knock on my door, so I opened it. Michelle was standing there, in this pinkish orange dress. Her hair was glossy and soft-looking, falling over her shoulders.

“Hey, we gotta head out soon, you almost ready?”

I snapped out of it. “Uh, yeah, yeah, I just gotta fix my hair.”

She scoffed. “Your hair looks fine, Peter. Come downstairs.”

She turned, skirt flowing behind her.

I dropped my head forward. I was gonna have to sit at lunch and stare at her and be absolutely hypnotized and I couldn’t do anything about it because she hated me.

I took in a deep breath, steeling myself for this lunch, and then went downstairs.

“Ooh, you look sharp,” Tony said as I came into the living room.

I smiled. “Thanks, Tony.”

Michelle was curled up on a couch with a book, brown sandals discarded on the floor in front of her. May walked behind her, gently touching her shoulder to get her attention.

“You guys ready to go?”

Michelle looked up, shoving a bookmark into her book. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Me too,” I added.

Tony grabbed the car keys off the kitchen counter. “Let’s roll, then.”

Tony drove, May sat shotgun, and Michelle and I sat in the back. She was staring out the window. I could see her reflection, her wide eyes as she tried to absorb the view.

It was a wonderful view. Lush green trees that lined the highway. Sunlight that came through in shafts.

But I’d been to this beach house before. I’d seen this view a million times. I’d never seen Michelle looking like this. She’d pulled all of her hair over one shoulder, so I could see where the straps of the dress tied behind her neck. Her skin looked like it was glowing, and it looked so soft and smooth.

And then I was thinking about yesterday, when we were goofing off in the water. How she’d looked with her long curls floating around her, and the sun lighting up her face, and how her skin had felt under my hands-

I looked away, out my window, and refused to look back at her.

But then I kept thinking about yesterday. When I’d hugged her tight against my body, her head falling back against my shoulder, and was so reluctant to let go.

I shouldn’t have snapped at her. I shouldn’t have stepped into her room when she clearly wanted me to leave, and I couldn’t even explain how badly I wanted to go back and not yell at her, just so I didn’t have to see the split second that fear showed on her face before she went back to being angry.

I wanted to go back and break down and fall into her arms and have her stroke my hair until I fell asleep. But that wasn’t her.

We pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, which forced me to tune back into reality. We went inside, and Tony already had a reservation for us, so we were immediately seated in a booth near the back.

May slid in next to Tony, which meant Michelle had to sit next to me. She slid in, barely glancing at me before picking up a menu.

It was fine. I couldn’t make eye contact with her without my dumb brain replaying the sounds from last night, so this made it easier.

We all quietly discussed what we were ordering before settling on decisions and stacking our menus up at the edge of the table.

The waitress came around and took our orders. As she was walking away, Michelle said, “She was so pretty.”

“Right?” May agreed. “Did you see her hair?”

Michelle looked at me. I dropped my eyes. “You saw that too, right, Peter?”

“I, um, wasn’t really paying attention.” It was true, I wasn’t. I barely looked at the waitress, not when Michelle was sitting right next to me.

Michelle squinted at me, but then turned back to May and they kept talking. Tony leaned in over the table. “Hey, Pete, you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re being pretty quiet.”

I shrugged. “I’m okay, Tony.”

He frowned, but leaned back anyways, still looking at me.

Once the food arrived, I had an excuse not to talk. I shovelled pasta into my mouth and anytime I was asked a question, shook my head, gesturing to my full mouth.

However, I hadn’t thought ahead enough to realize that I’d be done my food first. Which then meant that I had to participate in conversation.

I put all of my focus into acting normal, but I knew I faltered a few times. I could tell, because May would frown and glance at Tony, and Tony would narrow his eyes at me. Even Michelle shot me a couple glances, but I couldn’t look at her right now, so I couldn’t tell you anything about her expression.

We finished up at the restaurant, Tony paid, and then he turned to Michelle and I and said, “I just gotta go say hi to the owner, I’ll meet you guys at the car.”

May went with him, so Michelle and I went out to the car, alone.

She leaned against the front of the car, and it took all of my willpower not to pull out my phone and take a picture. She looked downright majestic, a slight breeze blowing her hair and skirt, the casual lean against the hood.

“What are you looking at, Parker?”

I dropped my eyes, yet again. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“What’s up with you? You’ve been weird all day.”

I frowned. “N-no, I haven’t.”

“Dude, you’ll barely look at me.”

“Well, you just got mad at me for looking at you-”

“Yeah, because you were staring.” She stood up straight, walking over to me, and my breath hitched in my throat. “Seriously, dude, what’s wrong with you?”

“N-” I coughed, “Nothing.”

“Right. Clearly. You’ll stare at me all you want but you won’t look me in the eye.”

I swallowed. “Just-just leave it alone, Michelle.” I crossed my arms, trying to give off the illusion of a little conviction.

She gave a soft laugh. It made my chest hurt. “Yeah. Fine. Whatever.”

I could feel the walls go up between us. It was silent until May and Tony came back, Tony unlocking the car.

“Sorry, I’ll bring you guys back to meet the owner next time we come, I just didn’t wanna bring a whole gaggle into the kitchen.”

“Gaggle?” Michelle repeated back to him, raising an eyebrow.

“Gaggle.”

She turned around, looking amused, to get into the car. I could see her full back, and it occurred to me that she likely…wasn’t wearing a bra.

Nope. Get that thought right out of your head, Peter.

I got in the car, looking out the window silently, the whole way home.

When we got home, Michelle said, “I think I’m gonna take a walk.”

May looked at me. “You should take a walk, too.”

I glared at her, eyes wide. “No, no thanks, I’m good. I should-I should call Ned, you know?”

“Ned’ll survive, Peter. Go outside, it’s nice out.”

She was right, but I didn’t wanna deal with Michelle.

I sighed. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“I think you’ve got as much choice in this as you do in patrolling together,” Tony chimed in, giving me a smug grin.

Oh. This _was_ about Michelle.

Oh, no.

“Alright. Okay.”

Michelle rolled her eyes as I caught up with her, ready to walk around the side of the house and go down to the beach.

“You act like taking a walk with me is a death sentence.”

It kind of was, as far as I was concerned.

“Whatever, Michelle.”

I took off my shoes and socks and tossed them onto the deck as we passed the back of the house. She did the same, pulling her brown sandals off and placing them together, much more carefully than I’d done.

We went down to the beach. I tried to pay more attention to the view than to Michelle.

I was pretty unsuccessful.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence.

“So?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, it was just kinda tense.”

“Normally when someone says ‘so’, they’ve got something to follow it up with.”

I shrugged, again, and felt immensely stupid. “I just figured that, you know, if we’ve gotta spend some time together, we might as well chat.”

“You don’t have to walk with me, Peter.”

Ouch.

“I-I think it would make May and Tony happy.”

“You mean, you think you’re not allowed to not be my puppy?”

“Wait, hold up, I’m not- I’m not your _puppy_. I’m just…tagging along.”

“Right. Like a puppy.”

I sighed. “You’re impossible.”

“Don’t forget it, buttercup.”

She stopped walking for a second, leaning forward and flipping her hair over.

“Sorry, give me a sec, my hair’s tickling my back.”

She scooped it all together in one hand, pulled a hair tie off her wrist, and tied it up. She stood up straight again.

“I didn’t miss a big chunk, did I? I do that all the time and then I look like an idiot.”

She hadn’t, but there were a couple little pieces near her hairline that fell out, falling into her face. Without really thinking, I reached forward to tuck a strand behind her ear, forgetting for a moment that she hated me. The second my hand grazed her skin, she jerked back, tucking the hair behind her ear herself.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Whatever. Don’t-don’t touch me.”

She crossed her arms and kept walking, and I had to jog a couple steps to catch up. My chest ached, and I couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Whatever, Parker.”

I winced. I hated when she called me Parker.

“Why _are_ you being so weird today?” she blurted, turning to look at me.

“I’ve told you, Michelle, it’s nothing.”

“You looked like a wreck this morning, you’re refusing to make eye contact, I keep catching you staring at me, and then you tried to…fix my hair. I don’t know, Peter, you’re freaking me out.”

I sighed. “I just…I had a rough night, okay?”

“Yeah, no shit. What does Tony know about it?”

That caught me off guard. “What?”

“I’m not stupid. He’s been giving you all these concerned looks all day.” She paused. “Does this have to do with what you said to me last night?”

How the hell had she figured that out?

“Because you said something about watching Tony die, and-”

“Fine,” I muttered. She stopped, staring at me. “You got me.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “No, that’s not all it is, is it?”

“Can you leave it alone, Michelle?”

“Fine. I’m just saying, Peter, you’re a bad liar.”

She waded a little ways into the water, lifting her skirt so it didn’t get wet.

“Are you gonna come in? The water’s nice and cool.” She looked at me. “Jesus, Peter, you look like I kicked you or something.”

“I’m fine, Michelle. I don’t wanna get my jeans wet.”

She rolled her eyes, letting go of her skirt and grabbing me by both hands, pulling me into the water.

“Michelle!”

“It’s ankle deep water, Peter. It’s not like I’m trying to drown you.” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“I didn’t mean to drown you,” I said.

“So you’ve said. Come on, let’s go in deeper.”

“Michelle, I’m wearing jeans.”

“I have eyes, dumbass. Besides, it’s water, not bleach. They’ll dry.”

“But they’ll be uncomfortable all the way back to the house.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “And I’m the princess.”

We kept walking, in silence this time, and after about ten minutes, Michelle stopped.

“We should probably head back.”

I couldn’t help but stare at her again. The bottom of her dress was floating in the water, making her look like a goddess. The sun was starting to get lower, lighting up her face.

“I, um, I was gonna say something earlier,” I said, “but you look really nice today.”

She smiled. It looked genuine. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” She tilted her head, looking me up and down. “You should definitely wear more button-downs.”

“Why?”

She reached over, giving my bicep a squeeze. “They highlight your muscles. You could pull so many girls if you actually showed off your body a little more.”

She started walking back towards the house. I stood there for a moment, staring at her.

What?

She turned around, looking at me. “Are you coming or what?” Maybe I was hallucinating, but it looked like her cheeks were a little flushed.

“Yeah, coming.”

She stayed put until I caught up, then we walked back in silence.

When we got inside, she made a beeline for her room, closing the door. I went into my room, sitting down on the couch and staring out the window. I could feel her hand around my bicep, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

She came out of her room, and stood in my doorway. She was wearing a loose t-shirt and a pair of white shorts. She hadn’t let down her hair, but there were more loose pieces than before, surrounding her face like a halo.

“Are you coming downstairs, or are you staying here to stare dramatically out the window?”

I frowned. “Why, what’s going on?”

“Check your phone. We’re doing a game night or something.”

“Oh, alright.”

She gave me a look. “Did you seriously complain about getting your jeans wet and then…not change out of them?”

I looked down. They were still dark around my ankles. “Oh. Right. I should do that.”

She snorted. “Meet you downstairs.”

I quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants, then went downstairs. There was a Monopoly board set up on the kitchen table, May and Tony sitting together on one side, Michelle sitting alone on the other side. I sat down next to her.

“Which piece do you want? Top hat, shoe, wheelbarrow, dog, or thimble?” Michelle asked. She had the battleship in front of her, Tony was holding the race car, and May was holding the iron.

I picked out the dog. Michelle gave me a look.

“What? Dogs are cute.”

She coughed. “Puppy.”

I smacked her arm, lightly, and she laughed.

We got into the game, Michelle playing the role of the banker. She handed out our starting cash, then Tony went first, and we worked around the table.

Michelle, ever the lucky one, landed on Boardwalk before she was done her first round around the table.

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t do it.”

Michelle grinned, taking money out of her stash, and taking the Boardwalk property card out of the stack. May and Tony and I all groaned.

“Well, now we’re royally screwed,” Tony muttered.

However, on my second trip around the board, I landed on Park Place.

“Michelle, take my money,” I said, holding out the colourful cash. She gave me a hard glare.

“I hate you,” she mumbled, taking my Monopoly money and giving me the property card. I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach as our fingers brushed.

I put the card down next to my money, and May took her turn.

The rest of the game was like that. One of us would get a property, and the other would get a different one of the same colour, preventing a monopoly.

After a while, we’d all racked up several properties. Tony had monopolies over the browns and light blues. May had the yellows and the utilities. Michelle and I each had two of the railroads. I owned two greens and two pinks, and she owned the third of each. She owned two reds and oranges, and I owned the third of each of those. Neither of us could put down houses, and both of us were kind of frustrated. Not to mention, she owned Boardwalk, and I owned Park Place.

“Okay, Peter, I have an offer to make.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“I will give you my railroads, my green and pink, and a hundred bucks.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And?”

“And you give me Park Place.”

May and Tony looked at each other, then looked back at us.

I shook my head. “No deal.”

“Okay, I’ll give you the railroads, my green and pink and my reds, and the hundred bucks.”

I shook my head. “There is no way I’m giving you a monopoly on the dark blues. It’s not happening.”

“Okay, I’ll give you all of my properties except for Boardwalk, plus five hundred. All for Park Place.”

I stood my ground. “Michelle, you can pry Park Place from my cold, dead hands.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t tempt me.”

The game continued. I ended up going to jail, and refused to bail myself out, despite having a Get Out Of Jail Free card. If I could stay here and collect money while everyone else ran around and had to pay rent, I was happy. This was free.

Michelle got more and more frustrated with me. Eventually, she landed on the Go To Jail space, and her battleship ended up next to my dog.

“I’ve decided I’m naming your piece Marley,” she said to me as May and Tony continued to go around the board, paying us rent every so often.

“Why?”

“Because at the end of _Marley & Me_, the dog dies.”

My jaw dropped. “Ouch, dude.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

I squinted at her. “Well, then, I’m naming your piece the Titantic. Because you’re going down.”

She smirked. “You should talk trash like that more often. It’s hot.”

She really knew how to get to me, didn’t she?

I could feel my cheeks get hot, which I hated because that meant she was winning our little rivalry. She knew it, too, because she saw my pink cheeks and gave me a smug grin.

For a moment, that smile, as smug as it might’ve been, was all that mattered to me.

I handed her my Get Out Of Jail Free card, and rolled the dice.

She gave me a confused look, but accepted the card.

“Okay, give me your offer again.”

“What?”

“The trade.”

She stared at me. “Did I miss something? Did you hit your head?”

“No. All your properties except for Boardwalk and five hundred bucks, right? That was the deal?”

She nodded.

“Make it a thousand and I’m in.”

She frowned, but handed it all over. I gave her my Park Place card.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, still sounding skeptical.

She bailed herself out of jail and built hotels on both properties. Then she got May within five minutes. May was down to fifty dollars.

I started building houses and hotels, too. Maybe I could put up a good fight if I did.

And then Michelle landed on Pennsylvania Avenue, my most expensive green property. I had a hotel on it, so rent was fourteen hundred.

“Cough it up, princess.”

She looked at me, nostrils flaring, as she handed me the money. I gave her my smuggest of smiles as I put my money away.

Tony landed on one of my properties and had to cough up a bunch of money, then landed on Boardwalk on his next turn. He sighed.

“I’m out.”

“What?” Michelle and I chorused.

He handed over all of his money and property to Michelle. She leaned in, whispering into my ear.

“He did that on purpose.”

I didn’t question her logic. He was a billionaire who knew how to run a business. He could’ve kicked ass and taken all of our names within five minutes if he’d wanted to.

But her lips were right next to my ear, her voice breathy. It sent a shiver down my spine.

She sat back in her chair, glancing at me and looking satisfied.

She was playing me like a fiddle.

May was out next. She landed on one of my properties, and considering she was poor from Boardwalk, she was handing me her money and properties before I quite realized what had happened.

Now that they were both out, Michelle moved her money and cards to the other side of the table, facing me as we played it out.

She owned the browns, the light blues, and the dark blues. I owned…literally everything else.

But still. She had Boardwalk and Park Place. I didn’t think I was at a huge advantage here.

I landed on the Go To Jail space, and let out the biggest sigh of relief. Michelle glared at me.

“No chance you wanna bail yourself out, is there?”

I shook my head. “I’m good right here.”

She narrowed her eyes, then kept rolling the dice. She landed on Pacific, and had to give me a bunch of cash, then landed on Short Line, and had to give me a bunch of cash. Then she landed on the Luxury Tax space, and had to put a hundred bucks in the bank. She passed Go and got to grab two hundred bucks, then landed on Oriental and had to give me even more money.

“Jesus, at this rate I’ll be out in two turns.”

I grinned. “How do you feel about that deal now?”

She huffed, rolling the dice again. She moved her piece twelve spaces, landing on Tennessee Avenue.

“Okay, how much do I owe you?”

I grinned. “Nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

She huffed again. “I was wrong. Only took one turn. I’m done. Congrats, buttercup.”

She helped me put the game away, then stood up and walked past me, ruffling my hair as she did.

I turned in the chair to see her sit down on the couch next to May. She looked at me over the back of the couch, brows furrowing as she caught me staring.

I got up and went to the pantry, grabbing a box of crackers. I went into the living room and sat down on the ground in front of May as Tony set up a movie.

We ended up watching _Interstellar_ , passing the box of crackers around. At one point, around the time Cooper watches the video from his daughter after getting back from the water planet, I passed the box of crackers off to Michelle and let my head tip back onto May’s knee. She took it as a cue to play with my hair, and I dozed off easily.

I woke up to the black hole sequence (which is super disorienting when you’re waking up from a nap) and tapped out.

“I think I’m just gonna head upstairs,” I said, getting up.

“Quitter,” Michelle mumbled.

I shrugged. “I’ve seen it before.”

As I walked around behind the couch, May turned around. “Goodnight, honey. Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay,” I told her, kissing her forehead before going upstairs.

I changed, brushed my teeth, and crawled into bed. I was dozing off again when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

Tony came in. “Hey, kid, do you wanna talk about yesterday?”

I sat up in the bed, and he sat down on the edge. “I don’t know.”

Tony looked down. “I know you don’t like talking about…before. And I don’t wanna push you, Peter. But I want to help you, and I can’t do that if I don’t know.”

“I-I know. I wanna…I wanna be able to talk about it, but-but I-”

“Yeah,” he said. “I get it. I still can’t really talk about the cave, or the wormhole, any of that stuff. Not without having a panic attack, at least. But if or when you wanna talk about it, come to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He stood up, coming up closer to me, and ruffling my hair. “I love you, kid.”

And then he left, closing the door behind him.

And I laid down again, falling asleep with a small smile.


	8. the lines we cross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter could probably bump up the rating to explicit, just a fair warning.

I got up early to make breakfast, because I felt like I probably owed Tony at least some pancakes for flying me out to California and all that jazz.

I was downstairs at the crack of dawn, digging the ingredients for pancakes out of the pantry and fridge. The sun was rising over the water, casting reddish orange light into the kitchen.

I took a picture and sent it to Dora. She’d never forgive me if I didn’t.

May was the first one to come out of the master bedroom, stretching her arms over her head.

“Oh, good morning, MJ.”

“Morning.”

She yawned, coming into the kitchen. “What are you up to?”

“I figured I’d make breakfast today.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she said, taking a seat at the table and staring out the window. “God, it’s beautiful here.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

Tony was the next one out. “Morning, ladies.” He planted a kiss on May’s forehead, then came to the island and leaned on the counter. “Brewing something?”

I shrugged. “I figure the least I can do to thank you for bringing me on vacation is make you breakfast.”

“Aw, come on, kid, you didn’t have to do anything.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

He gave me this proud smile and then turned to May. “I love these kids.”

My chest felt all warm and fuzzy.

Wow, I never got that feeling from my family. Yikes.

As I was finishing up the pancake batter, Peter came downstairs, yawning. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing just grey sweatpants. His hair was a mess, too, but somehow he was making it work.

“Ooh, whatcha making?” he asked. I could hear the grogginess in his voice.

“No shoes, no shirt, no service,” I joked. Tony chuckled. Even May stifled a laugh.

“Aw, come on, that’s not fair.”

“Dude, I’m kidding. I’m making pancakes, you can steal some when I’m done. Yeesh.”

He shot me an annoyed look, but sat down with May.

Tony stayed in the kitchen with me, chatting while I poured batter on a pan. He gave me another book recommendation, then went into the library to see if he could find it. In that time, I finished the first pancake and moved it from the pan to a plate. Peter was over in the blink of an eye, snatching it off the plate and taking a bite out of it.

“Peter!” May and I exclaimed in unison.

“Dude, can’t you wait until I’ve made a stack.”

“’M hungry,” he mumbled through a mouthful of pancake. I rolled my eyes. He chewed for a second, then swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut as he did. “Great pancakes by the way. Nice and fluffy.”

“Thanks for the thumbs up, Gordon Ramsey,” I deadpanned, pouring more batter onto the pan.

He sat back down with May, chomping on his pancake.

Tony came out of the library, holding a book. It was bound in dark green leather, so it was likely a first edition.

“Here. It’s, um, kinda slow, but once you get into it it’s hard to put down,” Tony said, putting it on the counter. “I think you’d like it.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

I finished making pancakes, and grabbed a bunch of plates, forks, and knives, then got out the butter and syrup.

“Alright. Breakfast is served.”

Peter zoomed over, the first to pick up a plate and stack it with pancakes.

“What?” he asked, when he saw me staring at him. “I have a fast metabolism.”

“Yeah, dude, I know, we have the same metabolism.”

He ignored me, pouring an obscene amount of syrup over his pancakes.

“Peter, what the hell, are you trying to drown them?”

He shrugged. “I like my syrup, leave me alone.”

May gave me a defeated look. “I don’t know, MJ. I wish I could tell you where I went wrong.”

“Hey, Uncle Ben used to do this, too. Clearly it’s genetic.”

May’s face fell, just for a second, but then she stacked her plate and sat down, too.

We all ate at the table. It was comfortably silent, save for Peter and I occasionally criticizing the other’s eating habits. Other than that, we were all staring out the windows, watching sunlight glimmer on gentle waves.

Once I was done eating, I cleaned up the kitchen, putting ingredients away, cleaning the counters, putting dishes in the dishwasher, clearing the table.

“Thank you so much, MJ, that was really good,” May said.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Tony added.

I shrugged. “I’m the oldest of four. I cook all the time.”

Tony, May, and Peter, all exchanged glances. I disregarded it, picking up the book Tony recommended and sitting down on the couch, curling my legs up under myself and opening to the front page. It had that wonderful old book smell, and the pages were smooth under my fingers, slightly yellowed with age.

Tony and May went into their room for a bit, came out clad in beachy outfits, then went down to the beach. Peter went upstairs, and came back down a couple minutes later with his laptop, sitting down next to me on the couch.

Just to bug him, I stretched out one leg a little, nudging his leg with my foot. He shot me a look, but didn’t say anything else. I did it again, to see if I could get a reaction out of him, but he ignored me completely this time, opening his laptop and going to our school website to check his marks.

“Are you checking your marks while we’re across the country from school?” I asked.

“I wanted to see if the results from my History test are up, leave me alone. And stop looking at what I’m doing on my laptop.”

I nudged him with my foot again, so he grabbed my foot and tickled the bottom of it. I squeaked, jerking my foot away. He gave me a satisfied smirk, then went back to his laptop.

I started to get into the book. Tony was right, it did start off slow. It was easy to get distracted by the clickity-clack of Peter typing on his laptop. I shifted a few times. I didn’t want to go into my room and isolate myself, because then I felt like a dick, but I couldn’t focus on the story with him typing right next to me.

“You alright there, Michelle?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You keep moving around.”

“Just restless, I guess,” I lied, brushing it off.

He frowned at me. “Do you want me to move to the table?”

I shrugged. “Not if you’re comfortable.”

I shifted again, wishing I could stretch out my legs. I read another couple of pages, and then shifted again.

“Michelle, seriously, I can move.”

I shook my head.

He sighed, but went back to what he was doing.

I seriously couldn’t concentrate. I was restless and he was clacking away.

If I couldn’t focus, I might as well bug him. I nudged his leg with my foot again, and he grabbed my ankle, holding it and tickling. I laughed, trying to wiggle away.

“Do you admit that you want me to move yet?”

“Peter, I’m gonna kick you,” I warned him breathlessly.

He kept tickling with me. I tried to kick him, but he had a pretty strong grip. “Admit that you want the couch to yourself, princess.”

I took a mental note of the page I was on, then closed the book and smacked him with it. He laughed, pushing my hand away before going back to tickling my foot.

“I’m dead serious, Parker, I’ll kill you.”

“I dare you to try.”

I pushed his laptop off of him, jerked my foot away, and tackled him, both of us laying across the couch, me on top. He put his hands on my waist and turned us over, so I fell and took the brunt of it, and he landed on top of me, tickling my stomach. I pushed his chest, trying to get him off of me, but grabbed me around my waist, pulling me up with him. I gave up, falling back on my back and grabbing his shoulders again, flipping us over one more time. We hit the coffee table, which knocked us back the other way, so Peter stayed on top of me. I flipped us back over, prepared for the coffee table this time, then pinned him down and lifted his shirt so I could tickle him back.

He was way more ticklish than I expected. He practically squealed, throwing his head back, grabbing at my hands to push me off. I didn’t give in, shaking him off and continuing.

“Michelle! Get off of me!”

“Fight me, buttercup.”

He pushed us back over, ending up on top of me again, and I grabbed his wrists before he could tickle me. Unfortunately, that meant he lost his balance, and fell onto me, our faces mere millimetres apart.

I’d never noticed how rich the colour of his eyes was. Looking into them when you were this close was like being dipped into the chocolate river from the Wonka Factory and living to tell the tale.

He scrambled off of me, then helped me up.

“Sorry I distracted you from your book.”

He picked up his laptop and went to the table, refusing to look at me again.

I sat down on the couch again, opening my book and curling up again.

I got through a couple chapters before Peter let out the loudest, heaviest sigh, and I closed my book.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

I glared at him.

“What?”

“You clammed up all of a sudden, and now you’re sighing like a Jane Austen character.”

He blinked. “I don’t- I don’t know where to start, there’s so much to unpack in that sentence.”

I got up, crossing to the table and putting my hands on it, leaning over him, our faces an inch apart.

“Spill the beans, Parker.”

He flinched. “It’s nothing, Michelle.”

“Clearly it’s something.”

He tried to ignore me, so I closed his laptop and curled a finger under his chin, forcing him to look at me. He stared at me, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Peter, either tell me what’s wrong, or stop being a little bitch, because otherwise I’m gonna lose my shit and choke you.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing. “I’m fine,” he breathed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You fucking better be.”

I stood up straight, went back to get my book, and went upstairs. Maybe I’d actually make some headway without him around.

I stretched out on the couch in my room, getting into the book now that I was distraction-free. It did manage to capture my full attention at some point, the plot thickening to the point where nothing else in my life seemed to matter.

I read for hours, getting completely lost in the book. I could see why Tony liked it, it had a lot of science-based metaphors and one of the characters was obsessed with the stars. But I loved it for the poetic way the author narrated the story.

I vaguely heard Peter go into his room, but it didn’t really register until I could hear him talking to Ned on the phone.

I sighed, trying to ignore it and get back into the story.

Unfortunately, Peter was a very dynamic speaker, so I could hear him talking, hear the emphasis he placed on certain words, all of it.

I put down the book and texted Ned.

_Me: tell peter to tone it down, I’m trying to read_

_Neddy Bear: this is why I don’t envy your super hearing_

He must’ve said something to Peter, because Peter went quiet immediately. I picked my book back up, and got through another ten pages before Peter got distracting again.

I put down the book and got up, leaving my room and going to his.

“Hey,” I interrupted. He shut up and turned around, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Sorry, did I get too loud again?”

I crossed my arms. “No, I came to applaud you for being extra quiet.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted.

“I’m gonna go down to the water, so you can feel free to be as loud as you want.”

I didn’t wait for his response, going back into my room and changing into my red bikini, grabbing a towel, and going downstairs. Tony and May had some back up from the beach and were sitting on the deck, May leaning against Tony, the two of them staring out at the water. They both turned to look at me when I opened the back door.

“Hey, kid, going to tan some more?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“How do you like the book so far?”

“It’s great. I really like the narration style.”

Tony grinned. “I knew that’s what you’d like about it.”

I went down to the beach, laying out my towel, and laid down on my back, closing my eyes. It was warm and toasty, and I’d been up late talking to my sister, so it was nice to be able to rest.

I kinda wondered what it’d be like when we got home, if Peter and I would actually acknowledge each other at school, or if we’d go back to normal.

After a while, I turned onto my back, resting my head on my arms.

It’d be kinda nice to get to the point where we didn’t ignore each other all the time. I’d get to spend more time with Ned, I wouldn’t spend my lunch periods alone, maybe our time patrolling together wouldn’t be so awkward. It could be worth it.

Or we’d hate each other even more, and things would be worse.

Fuck it, I still felt restless.

I got up, deciding to go for a walk.

It wasn’t like my feelings towards him had changed at all in the past couple days. He was still irritating and cold, and yelling at me the other night hadn’t helped his case. But I was now faced with the annoying truth that I was physically attracted to him, which made me want to be around him less. Plus, he was a distant weirdo yesterday, and then he’d tried to touch my hair, and it was all very off-putting.

I walked until I could barely see the house anymore, then started my way back, taking my sweet time. It was getting to be mid-afternoon-ish, and I was kind of enjoying this time alone. It was peaceful out, only one or two others on the whole beach, the water was refreshingly cool against the warm sand, and I wasn’t worried about much. My parents had to deal with Caleb, Jordan, and Dora without me, and I didn’t envy them. They were loud and rowdy and hard to round up. I was perfectly happy away from my family.

Besides, Tony was doing his best to make me feel like family, and it was working. His constant book recommendations and little positive reinforcements were slowly making me feel more comfortable.

May wasn’t doing to bad, too, trying to give me more and more affection as time went on. It was clear that she wanted to warm me up to it, but I wanted to tell her that it was fine to hug me or touch me, I didn’t mind. I kinda missed that kind of maternal attention. I was the oldest, so I didn’t get much affection from my mother.  

I walked all the way back to my towel then laid down again, waiting until my stomach growled to go inside.

I went in and went up to my room, putting on a pair of shorts and zipping up a hoodie over my bikini, then went downstairs. Peter was in the kitchen, making soup for dinner.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” I said.

May shrugged. “My fault. I can’t cook to save my life, so he learned so we didn’t get fat on Thai food.”

Tony chuckled, kissing her temple.

God, sometimes I looked at Tony and May, and the easy, casual ways they loved each other, and I wanted it so bad my heart hurt.

“Okay, princess, come over here and taste this.”

“Are you asking for my approval?”

He rolled his eyes. “The last thing I need is you calling me a bland white boy because you don’t like my seasoning.”

I laughed. “Glad you know me well enough to predict exactly what I’d say.”

He got out a spoon and scooped up some soup, gesturing for me to come over. He held it out, cupping his hand under it to catch spillage. I leaned in and tasted it.

“Oh, shit, Peter, that’s really good.”

He beamed, proud of himself. “Thanks, Michelle.”

“Could use a little more garlic, though, white boy,” I teased.

He gave a soft laugh, turning back to the soup.

We all sat down at the table for dinner, yet again. Tony complimented Peter on the soup twelve times (yes, I counted). May kept giving him these small, proud smiles.

I got sad for a moment. This was all temporary. We’d be going home soon and I’d go back to my weird family dynamic but Peter would keep this. I’d go back to leftovers at midnight in my room, fights with my parents about my grades, babysitting my siblings.

Peter would keep this. His proud, supportive parents. This loving dynamic. The warm atmosphere. I’d go back to an empty stomach and an empty chest and a grey world.

Peter slurped a little at his soup, and it knocked me out of my train of thought.

“Please, slurp louder, I’m sure the neighbours wanna hear, too.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond. He did it again, and I shot him a look, but he pretended not to see.

I ignored the glances Tony and May were exchanging, the two of them looking amused and smug.

I finished my soup, then scooted my chair back as harshly as possible, standing up and putting my dishes away.

“I’ll be in the hot tub if you need me.”

Peter looked…almost _hurt_ as I walked out the back door.

I went over to the hot tub, taking the cover off of it and dipping my toes in. It was hot, but it was bearable, so I took off my hoodie and shorts and slowly slid in.

I’d definitely been a bit of a bitch at dinner. Knowing that made me more annoyed with myself, which didn’t help me relax at all.

Okay, MJ, happy thoughts. Puppies. Kittens. The knowledge that Trump is mortal. The knowledge that Pence is mortal. The knowledge that Bernie Sanders exists and just wants the best for us.

I spread my arms out on the edge of the hot tub and let my head fall back. I could feel the tension slowly leaving my muscles. I’d stay out here for a while longer, until I pruned up, and then I’d go inside, take a shower, finish the book, and go to sleep. That all sounded nice.

I heard the back door open and close. I opened my eyes, lifting my head. Peter was standing there, in his neon green swim trunks, with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Do you, um, mind if I join you?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I can’t exactly hog the whole hot tub.”

He gave me a weird look, but put the towel next to mine on a deck chair and slid in, opposite me.

It was silent for a long time as we watched the sun start to dip below the horizon. There were a couple fluffy clouds in the sky, and they became big chunks of cotton candy as the sun got lower. The sky became a rich orange-pink, and the water reflected it, flecks of gold on the waves from the sun. When the sun got even lower, the sky turned a royal purple colour, clouds turning to a darker pink.

If my phone were on me and not up in my room, I would’ve taken a video and sent it to Dora. But I was glad I got to be present in this moment.

The only thing that was irking me was Peter’s mouth-breathing. I still felt like a bitch from earlier, so I didn’t want to say anything, but it was really getting on my nerves.

He sighed softly, and I looked at him, but he was already looking at me.

“What are you looking at, Parker?”

“Oh, um, the lighting’s really nice, and it made your skin look…nice. That’s all.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “What, are you gonna coach me on how to take selfies or something now?”

He looked away. “Don’t you have like a million guys you sent selfies to constantly?”

I stared at him, silently. After a moment, he looked back at me, and realized he’d pissed me off.

“Michelle, you can’t get mad at me when it’s the truth.”

“You make it sound like I’m a slut.”

“I don’t think you’re a slut! I didn’t say that. I just said that, you know, my opinion should be irrelevant to you because you should’ve mastered that by now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you’re doing a real good job of sounding like less of a dick.”

“Hey, hold on, I’m not- I’m not trying to-”

I stood up, getting out of the hot tub. “It’s fine. Whatever. Enjoy the hot tub.”

“Michelle, don’t-”

I dried off as quickly as I could and then draped my towel over my shoulders. I could hear the splashing as Peter got out of the tub.

“I didn’t- whatever I implied, I’m sorry-”

“Jesus Christ, it’s not just that, Peter. It’s that I can’t enjoy anything without you being there to ruin it!”

He stared at me for a moment, stunned. I took the moment to head into the house. The second I opened the door, he ran for his towel, barely running it over himself before tossing it over his shoulder and following me into the house.

“I’m not trying to ruin your enjoyment of things, Michelle! You could just tell me to leave you alone!”

I stopped in my tracks, turning around, and he almost bumped into me.

“Fine. Leave me alone.”

I turned and kept walking.

“No, Michelle, clearly we need to talk this out-”

“I don’t wanna do that, Peter! I wanna take a shower and read my book and go to sleep and not deal with you following me around like a puppy again!”

“Too bad!”

When we got to my room, I tried to slam the door shut behind me, but he slipped it, so it slammed shut, but he was already in the room.

“Peter, I’ve made it pretty damn clear that I want you to leave me alone.”

“Have you? Because all day I’ve given you every opportunity to tell me to leave you alone and you haven’t!”

“Because I don’t wanna be a dick! I don’t wanna tell you that I don’t want you to sit on the couch, or tell you that you can’t get in the hot tub! But holy shit, Peter, somehow you manage to get on every single one of my nerves and it’s driving me fucking insane!”

“Why am I the only one trying to get along with you?” he snapped. “Why is that my job? Why do I have to be the one to bend over backwards for you?”

“You don’t! If you weren’t such a cold dick to begin with, we wouldn’t be having this problem!” I yelled, stepping forward. He stepped back.

“I’m not cold! I’ve been specifically trying to be whatever you want me to be, but I don’t know what that is! You’re the most confusing human being I’ve ever encountered-”

I took another couple of steps forwards. He stepped back, hitting the wall behind him. “I’m confusing? One second you and I are-are wrestling in the living room, laughing our asses off, and the next you’re sulking at the table and won’t tell me why-”

“Why would I tell you? You’re just gonna be a jerk about it! You’re-you’re like, emotionally stunted or something! You refuse to ask for help unless you’re actively bleeding out, you won’t show appreciation-”

“Oh, that’s rich, because I remember making sure I said thank you to you anytime you did something for me!”

He was backed up against the wall now, and I was a couple inches away. I was all too aware of the fact that we were both half-naked, dripping wet, breathing hard-

Fuck it.

I grabbed him and kissed him, our lips crashing together harshly. His hands immediately went to my hips, fingers digging in as he pulled me against his body. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my towel falling off of my shoulders, my arm pushing his off of his shoulder. His skin felt impossibly hot against mine. His hands ran up my waist, over my back, leaving trails of fiery skin behind. I pushed against him, desperately needing more.

I ducked my head, kissing along his jawline, trying to accelerate this as much as possible.

“Michelle-”

His hands were flat against my back, pulling me against him. His breath was hot on my face.

I kissed under his ear, and I could feel his breath hitch for a moment.

“Michelle, should we- I- please, Michelle-”

I pulled back, looking at him. He had this desperate, wrecked look on his face. He stared at me for a second, then kissed me again, flipping us so I was against the wall. He pushed me against the wall kind of harshly, knocking the air out of me. I gasped against his lips, and he pulled back, pressing soft kisses down my neck. I was trying to catch my breath, letting my head fall back against the wall, panting. My neck burned everywhere his lips touched me, and I kept leaning into it, my mind going blank. My body was still pressed against his, so I could feel him getting harder and harder the more heated it got. I pressed my pelvis into his, and he backed off. Embarrassingly enough, I whined softly as he pulled away.

“Okay,” he breathed. “We gotta- we gotta slow- this is-”

“Peter, I am completely cool with this,” I told him, my voice still breathy.

He stared at me, panting. “This is- this is such a bad idea.”

“Do you wanna stop talking and keep kissing me or are you tapping out?”

He paused, staring at me, and then leaned in and kissed me again, immediately pressing against me. I moaned into the kiss, and he immediately gripped me tighter, pulling me away from the wall and the two of us stumbled towards my bed. The second we collapsed on it, me on top of him, he reached behind my neck to untie my bikini top. He stopped when he hooked a finger under the strings.

“Are you-”

“Yeah, dude, you can undress me,” I mumbled, going back to his lips. He untied the strings at the top of my bikini, and the ones in the middle of my back, and then threw the top across the room. I moaned again as he ran his hands over me, hesitating around my chest, but ultimately touching me anywhere and everywhere.

He dipped a couple fingers under my bikini bottoms, and waited until I pushed his hand down further to actually, properly, touch me.

God, he was good with his hands. He was slow and light at first, slowly adding pressure when I moaned, encouraging him.

I broke the kiss, dropping my head against his shoulder, breathing hard.

“Is this okay?” he asked. He started pressing soft kisses against my shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, more than okay,” I breathed, closing my eyes and focusing on the sensations.

He started to add more pressure, and I buried my face in his neck, slipping my hand into my bottoms to guide his hand. I knew exactly what got me off, and the second I started to guide him, he caught on. His thumb was rubbing gentle circles onto my clit, two fingers slowly pushing into me. He was still pressing kisses to my shoulder, working his way up my neck, too.

“Peter,” I breathed, digging my nails into him.

“Michelle, you’re- you’re killing me, here.”

I propped myself up on my elbows, and he stopped fingering me, his hand going still.

“I have condoms,” I blurted.

“What? Why?”

“I keep ‘em around, just in case.”

“Thank god,” he breathed, slowly pulling his hand away.

“They’re, uh, in my backpack,” I mumbled, getting off of him. My backpack was leaning against my nightstand, so I dug into it, pulling out a single condom and tossing it to him. He scrambled, pulling off his trunks and tossing them, then tearing open the wrapper and rolling the condom on. I pulled off the bikini bottoms, kicking them away, then got back on the bed.

Peter rolled on top of me, kissing me again, lining himself up.

“Are you sure?” he mumbled.

“Fuck, Peter, just do it.”

“That’s a yes,” he breathed, more to himself than to me. He pushed in, slowly, watching my face.

That made me a little self-conscious of how I looked during sex, but whatever, I ignored it, closing my eyes and biting my lip. He pressed his forehead to mine as he started to thrust. He was moving painfully slow, like he was scared to hurt me.

“Peter-”

“Am I hurting you?” he interrupted, muscles tensing.

“No, you dork, go faster.”

“O-oh. I can do that.”

I laughed, genuinely laughed and how bad he was at bedroom talk. He was good at everything else, but he really should just keep his mouth shut.

He slowly sped up, making sure to check on me every so often to make sure I was enjoying myself. I started to dig my nails into his back as he was really getting going, moaning softly.

He kissed me again, then kissed my neck, then just buried his face in my neck, breathing hard. He slipped a hand down my body, rubbing a finger against my clit. I let out a soft whine, arching my back. He kept up his rhythm, kissing my neck a couple times.

This was maybe the best decision I’d ever made.

“Harder,” I moaned, making it extra breathy, hoping it’d spur him on.

It did. He thrusted hard, over and over, and I moaned way louder than I meant to, biting my lip afterwards.

“Holy fuck, Peter.”

“Am I-”

“No, you’re not hurting me. God, don’t stop.”

I dug my nails into his back, probably hurting him, but I was getting close as hell.

I let go of his back and buried my hands in his hair, tangling my fingers in his curls.

Jesus, he had soft hair.

I kissed him. It was messy and unfocused, but I didn’t really care.

“I’m close,” I breathed against his lips.

He took that as a signal to speed up, which didn’t exactly bother me. My head fell back as I moaned, and he kissed my neck. I arched my back, letting out whimpers and moans.

I came, hard, moaning his name. His thrusts stuttered, and he slowed down, waiting until I relaxed back into the bed to pull out, wrapping his own hand around his dick and finishing himself off.

He fell onto the bed next to me, both of us breathing hard.

After a moment, he sat up, pulling the condom off and throwing it out. He grabbed his towel off the floor and wrapped it around his waist, then grabbed his swim trunks.

“Sorry, I’ll be back in a sec.”

I took the opportunity to get up and go to the bathroom, then pull on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He came back into my room as I was pulling back the covers on my bed, wearing grey sweats and nothing else.

“There’s, um, there’s no way you’d be alright with post-sex cuddles?” he asked, head lowered, giving me puppy eyes.

“How did I know you were going to ask?” I teased.

“Is that- is that a yes or a no, I can’t tell-”

“Yeah, whatever, I think we’ve crossed enough boundaries tonight that one more won’t matter.”

He smiled, just for a second before he stopped himself, then came over and crawled into the bed. I curled up in his side, resting my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, one hand on my waist, one hand in my hair.

“We are never speaking of this night again,” I mumbled.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Alright.”

I fell asleep soon after, warm and comfortable and relaxed.


	9. coming home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright kids second last chapter let's DO THIS (also i'm sorry if you cry whoops)

I woke up that morning, my face buried in Peter’s neck, my body half on top of his, half on the bed. I couldn’t tell if he was awake yet, and I didn’t wanna move if it was gonna wake him up. Besides, he was warm and comfortable, and I could hear his pulse and feel his chest rise and fall with each breath.

For a split second, I wanted to stay here, forever.

Then he shifted, his arms tightening around me for a moment. I figured he was probably awake and took the opportunity to roll off of him.

“Morning,” he mumbled, stretching.

“Morning.” I got up, stretching a bit, then going to my closet to grab some clothes.

“Are we…gonna talk about that?” he asked, voice quiet.

“Not if we can help it.”

Peter got up, leaning against the wall next to my closet. “We probably- that was- we should talk about that.”

I turned my focus to him. “Peter, if you ever bring that up again, I’ll castrate you. Deal?”

His eyes went wide. “Deal.”

“You can’t mention that to anybody. Especially not Ned.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, raising his arms in surrender. “It stays between us.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll, um, see you downstairs, then.”

The day passed normally. I sat out on the beach and read all morning, came in at lunch to eat, and then spent a while on the phone with Dora.

Tony came and knocked on my door around four.

“Hey, we’re gonna go for dinner tonight.”

“How fancy?”

“May’s wearing a dress.”

“Alright. I’ll get ready.”

I went into my bathroom and took a quick shower, then did my makeup, tamed my hair as much as I could (it was much more humid here than in New York, and my hair showed it), and then put on the black floral dress I’d stolen from Dora and went downstairs.

Peter was chatting with Tony on the couch. He did a bit of a double take when he saw me.

“What?” I asked, getting a little self-conscious. I looked down, smoothing out the dress.

“Oh, no, you look fine, Michelle.”

Tony looked at me. “You look amazing, kid.”

I smiled, despite still feeling a little self-conscious. “Thanks.”

Peter was still staring at me. I sat down at the table, pulling out my phone, checking my messages.

_Caleb: you need to come home_

_Caleb: we need the family peacekeeper_

_Me: I get home tomorrow, dingus_

_Caleb: not soon enough_

_Me: try not to murder anyone before I get there, because I’m not helping you hide a stinky body_

_Caleb: non-stinky ones?_

_Me: up for debate. I’d have to see the damage_

Glad to know I was missed at home.

_Neddy Bear: when do you guys come home?_

_Me: I think we get in tomorrow evening. Pretty late tho_

_Neddy Bear: okay. Saturday you’re coming over and we’re hanging out_

_Me: deal_

May came out of the bedroom, so I put my phone away.

“God, I’m lucky,” Tony said, getting up to kiss her. She was smiling as he pulled her close.

I realized Peter was still looking at me. When I made eye contact with him, he immediately looked away.

“Alright, are we ready to go?”

We all piled into the car, May taking a moment to tell me how nice I looked, and then we were off.

We drove into Arcata, and straight to a fancy, five-star restaurant in the centre of town.

I looked at Peter. “This looks…”

“Crazy expensive?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “You’re in a car with Tony Stark, what did you expect?”

Fair enough.

We got out of the car and went in. Tony was talking to the hostess, and I was a little too focused on fixing the belt that cinched my dress at the waist. When I tuned in, I heard, “-so she and I will sit at a table for two, and then these two can sit at a table for two, just put it all on me.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

I looked at Peter, panicked. He was tense, too.

Great, I’d screwed my rival and now I had to go on a date with him.

The hostess told Peter and I to wait in the foyer while she seated May and Tony.

“Well, this is gonna be fun,” I said, kicking out one foot and tracing my toe on the ground in figure-eights.

Peter didn’t say anything. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t look up or say anything.

The hostess returned after a minute. “If you two will just follow me.”

Peter let me go first, so I followed her to the back of the restaurant. There was a booth meant for two, with a candle next to the wall. She gave us each a menu and left.

“Wow, they know how to set the mood,” I muttered, opening my menu.

Peter opened his, too, but I caught him looking at me over the top of it.

I figured out what I wanted, then put my menu down, glancing around the restaurant. I couldn’t see May or Tony, but there was a couple in the booth across from us. They were only a couple years older than us, teasing and flirting with each other. It looked so easy and natural to them.

“Earth to Michelle,” Peter said. “What are you getting?”

“Oh, um, I think I’m gonna go with the ziti.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I think I’m gonna get the lasagne. It looks really good.”

I was barely paying attention. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready for a relationship again. I’d tried that once, and it’d ended badly, but being around Tony and May and seeing a loving, caring relationship so much had made me yearn for it.

“Michelle? Are you okay?”

I snapped out of it, realizing I was staring at the couple across from us. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You gave that couple a pretty intense glare.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

The waitress came by, and we each gave her our orders, and then she walked away again.

“Michelle?” Peter said, his voice small.

“Yes?”

“You look…pretty.”

I half-smiled. “Oh, I’m so relieved.” He looked panicked for a second, like maybe he’d upset me. “You look pretty, too, Parker.” I reached across the table and fixed a piece of hair, and he smiled at me.

I wasn’t lying. He did look pretty nice tonight. His curls were half-straightened, pushed to one side, looking shiny and soft. He was wearing slacks and a dark button-down, rolled up to his elbows again. Objectively speaking, he looked more than pretty. But, you know, subjectively speaking, part of me never wanted to see him again.

I didn’t realize how fidgety I was until Peter reached across the table and stopped my hands. I kept adjusting my hair, or my dress, and then he put his hands over mine.

“Stop worrying. You look…god, Michelle, you look gorgeous.”

My stomach did a weird flip. I didn’t know how I felt about getting that compliment from Peter.

“I don’t know, I just don’t dress up like this often, and this isn’t even my dress, it’s my sister’s-”

My voice trailed off when I saw how he was looking at me. Eyes wide, lip pressed together.

“What?” Now I was the one who’s voice sounded small.

“I’ve never seen you…not completely sure of yourself.”

I laughed, kind of humourlessly. “Stuff like this isn’t really my comfort zone.” I gestured to the dress.

“Well, I know my opinion means approximately nothing to you, but I think you’re the prettiest girl in the restaurant.”

“Are you gunning for something right now, Peter? Because I was pretty sure last night was, like, a one-time thing.”

“No, no no no, I’m serious, Michelle. No…ulterior motives, or anything.”

I blinked. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You don’t look like you believe-”

The waitress came back. “Alright, ziti for the lady and lasagne for the gentlemen,” she said, cutting Peter off and putting our plates down in front of us. “Enjoy.”

She walked off, and I shoved a bunch of ziti into my mouth before Peter could pick up the conversation again.

“Mmm, yeah, I see how they have five stars.”

He smiled. “It’s not under seasoned?”

I reached over the table and pushed his shoulder. “No, white boy, they did not under season the food.” I laughed, and then he smiled and looked down.

This was nice. It was easy. We weren’t at each other’s throats.

God, if I’d known all I had to do to fix our dynamic was fuck him, I would’ve done it much earlier. And, man, it’s not like I didn’t enjoy myself.

My mind kept drifting back to this morning. Waking up with someone else in my bed. That was a feeling I could get used to.

I just didn’t know anybody I trusted with my heart just yet. The last person I’d trusted like that didn’t really take that trust seriously.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Peter said. I realized I’d been zoned out, mindlessly eating for a while.

“Sorry, I checked out a bit.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I figured. Whatcha thinking about?”

I shrugged. “Family, I guess,” I lied. He squinted at me for a second, and I knew he saw right through me. “Just kinda wondering if their doing alright without me. Caleb texted me this morning and-”

“That’s your younger brother, right? One of the twins?”

“Yeah, I- how did you know that?”

His eyes widened. “I- uh, Tony…told me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Tony specifically told you about my family?”

Peter was sweating now. “Uh, yeah, he said it was- I-”

“Peter, tell the truth, how do you know?”

He pressed his lips together, looking down at his plate. “You know how I saw-saw Tony die?”

I frowned. “Yeah.”

“It has to do with that. I just…I’ll explain some other time, I just don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

I realized his eyes were starting to get glassy, so I dropped it. I finished up my ziti and pushed my plate forward. Peter was pushing the last little bit of lasagne around his plate.

“Dude, you look like a four-year-old right now.”

He laughed, only half-heartedly, but it was something. He took the last couple bites.

A couple minutes later, the waitress came around to take our dishes. “Would you guys like to see a dessert menu?”

Before Peter could shake his head, I cut in. “We’d love to.”

He gave me a confused look as they waitress handed me a menu and walked away.

“Dessert’s good for the soul. At least, that’s what my sister always tells me so I don’t feel bad about eating dessert after a bad day.”

Peter smiled. “That’s cute.”

“I’m gonna let that slide, because you seem kinda upset, but the next time you call me cute, you’re losing a leg.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he teased.

I opened the menu. “Honestly, I’m pretty full from the ziti, so do you wanna just share a dessert?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

The waitress came back, and we ordered a chocolate lava cake.

“You better not do the thing where you try to eat, like, ninety percent of it. I may be full, but goddammit, I’m eating some good lava cake tonight.”

Peter laughed. “Deal. I’ll leave you at least twelve percent.”

I kicked him (gently) under the table, and he kicked me back, and before I knew it, we were playing footsies, but way more aggressive than romantic.

By the time the waitress came back, we were both laughing.

“Here you go, guys.” She put down the plate and two spoons, and we each grabbed a spoon and dug in. His spoon hit mine, unintentionally, so I hit his back.

“Let’s not start that fight, it’ll get messy.”

I laughed. “That’s fair. I’d like to leave here without chocolate cake in my hair.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Michelle, I think that’d be a good look for you.”

I laughed again.

We finished our lava cake, and then met Tony and May out by the car.

“Did you guys enjoy dinner?” Tony asked.

I nodded, glancing at Peter. “Yeah, it was really nice.”

May looked at Tony. “I’m glad we got a date in without feeling guilty about leaving you two behind.”

We got in the car and headed back to the house.

I felt good. I had a bunch of good food in me, and dinner wasn’t tense or awkward. Overall, a successful evening.

When we got back to the house, I changed into my blue floral bikini, then went out and got into the hot tub.

Peter came out a few minutes later, wearing a t-shirt and his swim trunks.

“I’m not gonna ruin your night if I get in the hot tub with you, will I?”

I shrugged. “I’ll tell you to get out if I need to.”

He pulled off his shirt and slid in next to me, staring out over the water.

“Do you know what time our flight is tomorrow?” I asked.

“Uh, like, noon? I think?”

I laughed. “Glad you’re so confident.”

He shifted a little. “Are we…really just not gonna talk about last night?” he asked, looking kind of uncomfortable and nervous.

“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about.”

“But, like, that was just…it didn’t mean anything?”

“Not to me.”

He nodded. “Right. Me neither.”

“You can’t tell Ned,” I told him. “I’m serious, he’ll never let it go.”

Peter nodded. “Deal.”

There was a long, long silence.

“We’re not…gonna do that again, right?” Peter asked.

“Do you want to?” It was a genuine question.

He scratched the back of his neck. “That’s-that’s complicated.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Peter.”

He hesitated. “I guess the short answer is yes.”

“What’s the long answer?”

He stared at me for a long time, and then before I knew it, he was grabbing me, pulling me into his lap, lips finding mine. My knees were on either side of his hips, his hands were on my waist, holding me as he kissed me.

Was I kind of confused? Yes. But was I also totally down to do this again? Yes.

But then he stopped, really suddenly. He pulled back, looking at me, brows slightly furrowed.

“What?” I asked.

He stared at me a second longer, then kind of snapped out of it, letting go of my waist. I got off of him, sitting down again.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll, um, I’m gonna go pack.”

He got out of the water before I could say anything, picking up his shirt and towel, and going inside.

That was…weird. To say the least.

I stayed in the hot tub until my fingers were all pruned up, and then I got up and went inside.

I took a long shower, washing my hair, shaving, exfoliating, the whole nine yards. When I got out and was drying my hair, Peter was knocking on my door. I could tell it was his knock because he always knocked kind of rhythmically, and Tony just knocked three times.

“Uh, give me a second!”

I threw on sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, and then opened the door.

“Hi.”

He looked at me. “I, um, I’m sorry about…the hot tub.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. It’s forgotten.”

He stared at me for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something else, but then he just looked down. “Right. I’ll let you pack.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I closed the door again.

God, and boys thought girls were hard to understand.

I finished drying my hair, then tied it up and put on some music to pack to. It didn’t take very long, but I also didn’t put a lot of effort into folding. I kinda just balled things up and tossed them in.

I didn’t finish packing, because I still wanted to be able to change and brush my teeth and stuff in the morning, so I went to bed with my suitcase laying open on the floor in the middle of the room.

***

I woke up early and finished packing, then opened my door and started to bring my suitcase down. Tony was already in the hall, talking to Peter.

“Oh, hey, MJ, I can take that down for you,” Tony offered.

“All due respect, Tony, I literally have super strength. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, fair enough.”

I took my suitcase downstairs and put it next to Tony’s at the front door, then sat at the table and ate some cereal.

May came out of her room, brought her suitcase to the front door, and then came and sat down with me.

“Going back to New York after this is gonna suck,” I said.

She smiled, sleepily, staring out the window. “Yeah. I’ll miss it here. Maybe we’ll come back for Christmas.”

I finished eating, did the dishes and put them away, and then Tony came downstairs with Peter’s suitcase. I don’t know why he was convinced he had to bring our suitcases down for us, we were superpowered, but whatever made him happy was fine by me.

“Alright, final checks. Passports? Chargers?” Tony asked. “You guys have everything?”

I checked my bag. My passport was right where I packed it.

“Got it.”

“Alright. Let’s hit the road.”

We packed everything into the car and got in, heading to the airport.

I watched out the window, catching glimpses of the ocean between dark green trees. I was sad to see this view go, but part of me missed New York. As much as I loved the sunshine and the beach, I was going to be happy to get back to skyscrapers and rain. It was home, as gloomy as it could be.

I texted my mom to let her know that I was on my way home, and I’d be back late tonight. She responded with a thumbs up emoji.

“Excited to get back to being friendly neighbourhood Spider-People?” Tony asked.

Peter and I looked at each other.

“Yeah, I’m ready to get back to it.”

“Me too,” Peter said, his lips starting to curve up in a smile, even though he was fighting it.

We got to the airport, got on the private jet, and got situated. I started to head to the back, ready to let May, Tony, and Peter be their own little family, but Peter followed me to the back.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t really feel like watching May and Tony cuddle for six hours.” It was a lie, but I let it slide. We sat down in a little booth thing. He pulled out his laptop, and I pulled out a book. I finished my book halfway through the flight, so I plugged in my earphones and stared out a window for the rest of the flight.

We got in at nine in NYC and Happy picked us up from the airport.

“How was California?”

Tony gave him a smile. “Same as always. Bringing you next time, Hap.”

Tony drove us all back to the base.

“Peter, MJ, you guys are welcome to stay here tonight, if you’re too tired to go home.”

I shook my head. “My family’s expecting me.”

“I’ll go back to the city with Michelle,” Peter said. I shot him a look, but he was looking at May. “That’s fine, right?”

May looked concerned. “I’m staying here tonight, so if you’re alright in the apartment alone…”

Peter shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

And that was that. Happy drove us back into the city. It was dark, so the city was all lit up, light from streetlights coming in through the car windows.

“I’m so ready to pass out,” I mumbled, tipping my head back against the headrest.

“Yeah, me too.”

It felt like the longest drive ever, getting back home. I was seconds away from dozing off when Happy pulled over in front of our buildings.

“Do you guys need any help with luggage?” he asked.

I shook my head. So did Peter.

“Alright. I’ll wait here for a couple minutes. Text me once you’re in your apartments.”

Peter and I each got out of the car, and went around to the trunk. Peter opened it, pulling out my suitcase and backpack first.

“Michelle, you look exhausted. Do you want me to bring that up for you?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got my big girl panties on.”

He swallowed. “Alright. Goodnight, then.”

“Patrolling tomorrow?” I asked.

“Sounds good.”

I headed into my building, giving him one last glance before I closed the door behind me.

When I got up to my floor and stepped out of the elevator, Max was fiddling with the lock on his door.

I could feel my muscles tense up, my head start to ache as my spidey-senses went off.

“Hey, MJ. I haven’t seen you since the party.”

“Yep,” I mumbled, starting to head past him. He grabbed my arm, stopping me.

“Did you have a good break?” he asked, glancing down at my suitcase.

“Yeah. Went to Cali. Had a good time.”

“You look tired, do you wanna come in and have some coffee-”

“I’m gonna unpack and go to bed,” I snapped, pulling my arm out of his grasp. He scowled at me.

“I’m just trying to be nice. You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

“You don’t have to be such a creep, but here we are.”

Before he could respond, I hurried away, going to my door and unlocking it, disappearing inside.

My family was scattered between the kitchen and living room.

“MJ!” Dora shouted. She launched herself at me, wrapping arms around me tight. Caleb and Jordan joined in, yelling variations of my name, and lastly, Mom and Dad.

“I love you guys, but I can’t breathe,” I said, voice strained, feeling the pressure of five simultaneous hugs.

They broke off, chuckling.

“I have internship stuff tomorrow, and I’m hanging out with Ned for a bit, but can we do a movie night when I get home?” I asked.

“Aw, did you miss us?” Jordan teased, punching my shoulder. I punched his back.

“Nah, just gotta make sure your dumb asses didn’t screw up your whole lives in the week I was gone.”

He laughed.

“Alright, Shelley, you should go to sleep,” Mom said. “Get some rest, we’ll chat tomorrow.”

She kissed my forehead, and sent me down the hall to my room.

***

I was up late the next morning, my phone buzzing already.

Spider-Dork: hey what time do you wanna go patrolling?

Me: I just woke up. Give me twenty and I’ll meet you outside

Alright, guess I was hitting the ground running.

I got up, going into the kitchen and putting bread in the toaster.

“Nobody touch that! I gotta get ready!”

I ran into my bathroom, washing my face, brushing my teeth, and tying up my hair. I ran back to the kitchen, barely buttered my toast, then ran back into my room and unpacked my suit. I knew it was stupid of me to pack it when I didn’t touch it the whole trip, but at least I knew there was no risk that anybody other than Jordan knew who I was. He knew he was dead if he told anybody, too, so my secret was safe.

I changed into the suit, holding a piece of toast between my teeth, the other piece on my dresser. I put my mask on, picked up my other piece of toast, then went out onto the fire escape. Peter was already sitting on the railing of his fire escape.

“Okay, give me a second to eat,” I mumbled.

“Fair enough.”

We sat there for a couple minutes while I finished my toast, then I brushed my crumbs off my lips and my suit.

“Okay, I’m ready. Two hours, because I gotta be at Ned’s at one.”

“Sounds good. You have web cartridges?”

I checked my web shooters, and the cartridge holders on the suit.

“I don’t have any backups.”

Peter headed into his room, grabbing a couple off a dresser, and tossed them to me. I caught them, easily.

“Thanks.” I slipped them into the slots in the suit, and then we were off.

Unsurprisingly, Saturday morning was not a high-crime time in Queens. We were helping the elderly across the street, stuff like that. It was pretty boring.

At some point, we found ourselves on the roof of a building, just sitting and people watching.

“So, how was your night alone in the apartment?” I asked.

“Ned ended up coming over for the night.”

“Oh.”

He hesitated. “How was your family?”

“Good. I got the biggest group hug when I got home. It was kind of aggressive.”

He chuckled. “That doesn’t sound like a problem.”

“It wasn’t. It was pretty nice.”

He smiled, then his whole face fell.

“What?”

“Police radio. Do you remember the code 10-52?”

“Do you not remember your codes?” I teased.

“It’s been a week, Michelle, leave me alone. What’s a 10-52?”

“It’s a dispute. Probably a stand-off.”

His suit-eyes went wide. “Follow me.”

He jumped off the building and started swinging. I followed close behind, and we landed on the south end of Queens. There were two guys who looked like they might’ve been drug dealers in a stand-off. Cops had created barriers with the cars and were ducked behind them, waiting for the go-ahead to fire.

“Okay, follow my lead,” he said.

I followed behind him, and he tackled one of the guys.

“Dude!”

I tackled the other, pinning his arms down and webbing him there. His gun clattered over the pavement as it fell out of his hand. I looked over at Peter, and he was still struggling against his guy. I got up and shot a couple webs that way, one hitting the wall behind them, one hitting the bad guy, pinning him to the wall.

“Alright, nice work,” Peter said, shooting two more webs at the dude and then turning to me.

“NYPD!” came a gruff voice over the loud speaker. “Hands up! Remove your masks!”

“Come on, man, we just helped you out,” Peter whined. He raised his hands, looking at me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Just…follow my lead.” He turned back to the officers. “Listen, guys, I would love to tell you who I am, but the thing is that my boss would literally kill me.”

“Who do you work for?”

Peter shrugged. “You’d know him if you saw him.” And then he shot out a web and zipped off.

I looked up at him, swinging away, and back at the officers. “He’s my ride,” I told them, then shot out a web and followed him. He stopped on a building a couple walks away from the stand-off. I caught up, sitting down, breathing hard. “Okay, asshole, next time you say ‘follow my lead’ don’t _tackle the guys with the guns!_ ”

He shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it? And neither of us got hurt.”

I stood up and crossed my arms. “What? Since when are you so reckless?”

“I’m not reckless! Besides, that’s exactly what you would’ve said.”

“I probably wouldn’t have tackled them first!”

“Michelle, you’re being difficult here.”

“You’re being a reckless asshole and I’m taking the lead next time.”

He sighed. “You’re not ready to take the lead.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s why we’re paired up! You got shot, remember? And then when we were in the subway and you were determined to do things your way, you almost died!”

It was weeks ago, but I remembered that moment clear as day. Particularly when Peter webbed me and yanked me away from the train, into him. I could still feel his hands on my waist, if I focused, and hear his breath as he panted to catch it…

And then I was remembering him lifting me up at the party, my arms around him and head on his shoulder as he carried me to the car, from the car into Ned’s building. We’d flirted a lot that night, now that I thought about it. I remember teasing him, pushing him playfully, smiling at him…

When we’d gone out to lunch, the four of us, and Peter was wearing the button-down with it rolled up to his elbows, and he didn’t know how amazing he looked…

And then I was thinking about that walk on the beach, when Peter had tried to push hair out of my face and I’d pulled back. I didn’t even know why I was so pissed at him about that. He was just trying to help, but he’d looked so focused and…

And that tickle fight, when he’d been grinning and laughing, and we were wrestling on the ground. His hair kept falling in curls across his forehead. I’d gotten close enough to really see his eyes for the first time, the rich brown that was warm and inviting…

Kissing him. As steamy as it had been, god, he was a good kisser. His lips were soft and warm and he’d held me so close…

And dinner the other night, when we were playing footsie under the table and laughing, or sharing dessert, teasing each other. I kept wanting to make him smile, or laugh…

Oh my god. I was in love with Peter Fucking Parker.

“Michelle? Are you okay?”

It made way too much sense. Of course I’d been an asshole to him, I was pushing him away. It was a defence mechanism. But I knew I wanted a relationship, and I just hadn’t put two and two together-

Wow, for such a good student, I was the world’s biggest idiot.

What if he knew? What if that was why he’d kissed me in the hot tub but stopped, because he knew I loved him but he didn’t love me-

He didn’t love me.

I stared at him, sitting there in the suit, staring up at me.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

“I-I gotta go. I can’t- I have to- I gotta go.” All I could think about now was him. His hands on me when we were in my bed, his hair between my fingers-

He checked the time. “You don’t have to be at Ned’s for another hour-”

“Gotta un-laundry. I mean, unpack. And do laundry. There’s a lot of stuff I need to do-” His stupid, stupid, stupid gorgeous fucking smile-

“Michelle, seriously, is everything okay?” He got up and reached towards me. I smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I-”

“I’m going home.”

I jumped off the building, shooting out a web and swinging towards home.

“Hey!”

He followed close behind, but he was only following because we had to be within a block or whatever of each other. When I landed on my fire escape, he landed next to me.

“What’s going on? You-you checked out for a second and-and then you- Michelle-”

“Peter, go home. May’s probably in there waiting for you.”

His suit eyes squinted. “Are you…Michelle, is this about family stuff?”

“No.” At least that was the truth. “I just gotta get stuff done.” Like getting a certain cute boy out of my head.

“O-okay. Do you- did I-”

I yanked my window open. “Just go home. I’ll…text you, or something.” I was definitely not gonna do that.

“Michelle-”

I climbed in and shut the window before he could say anything else.

“Shelley, are you home?” my mom called. “I didn’t hear you come in-”

“Uh, just a minute!”

When I looked at my door, it was unlocked.

Shit.

I slapped the spider logo in the middle of my chest and kicked of my suit, taking my mask off and shoving it into the drawer of a desk.

“Michelle, open the door.”

I kicked the suit under the bed. “Seriously, Mom, I’m changing.”

“Girl, I changed your diapers, seeing you in underwear isn’t going to phase me.”

I grabbed the first thing in my closet, which was a long concert shirt, and threw that on. “Give me just one second-”

She opened the door regardless. “Michelle, I need you to drive Caleb to a school…thing tomorrow. It’s hockey or soccer or football or something.”

“Drama, Mom. He does drama. It’s a rehearsal,” I told her as I grabbed a pair of pants.

“Whatever, you’re taking him.”

She closed the door again.

I sighed, putting my pants on and collapsing on my bed.

I was beyond screwed. Actually, no, I was screwed squared. Or cubed. So incredibly fucked, and I couldn’t even tell anybody.

I unpacked and threw stuff in the laundry pile for tomorrow, and then walked to Ned’s.

When I knocked on his door, I immediately heard him say, “She’s right here, dude, she’s probably fine. Yeah, she just knocked on my door, give me a-”

And then the door swung open. Ned was on the phone, undoubtedly with Peter.

“Peter wants to know if you’re okay.”

I stared at him for a moment. I could feel the tingle in my nose and the pressure behind my eyes, like I was about to cry.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Ned looked concerned, but said, “Yeah, she’s fine. I’ll call you later, man.” And then hung up.

I forced a smile, despite the tears pooling in my eyes. “Hey, Neddy Bear.”

“I’ll let that slide, only because you look like you’re about to have a breakdown.”

A tear spilled over onto my cheek. I wiped it away, laughing. “What? Pshhh, I’m fine.”

“MJ,” he said, and I lost it, bawling. He pulled me into the apartment and hugged me.

“I’m fucked,” I mumbled.

“What happened?”

“Me. I’m stupid. I happened and now I’m fucked.”

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”


	10. where we start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright definite cry warning for this chapter. i lowkey sobbed writing the last half of it but i'm also hardcore pmsing so take that with a grain of salt i guess
> 
> also if you want some music that really hits close to home in this chapter, listen to 1000x by jarryd james (i think that's how it's spelled) during the last half of the chapter. :')

“Tony, please, listen to me.”

“Kid, I’ll review some footage from the Baby Monitor Protocol and consider it, but I think-”

“You don’t understand-”

“MJ, you know I love you. That’s why I’ve paired you with Peter, because I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“But I won’t,” I pleaded. “I swear to whatever god you want, I won’t. I just- I can’t patrol with Peter.”

“Why not?” Tony stopped tinkering on his suit and looked up at me.

“I-I-I can’t-”

“Did you finally realize that you’re head over heels for him?”

I swear, if my life had a soundtrack, there would’ve been a record scratch right there. “What?”

“Okay, listen, part of the reason I paired you with him is because I think you’ve had feelings for him this whole time, and that the reason you bicker so much is because you’re pushing him away as a defence mechanism because you’ve been hurt before. Am I right?” He looked so sure of himself.

I dropped my eyes to the floor. “I dated this guy Alex for six months,” I admitted. “It was right at the end of freshman year and then over the summer. In September of sophomore year, I found out he’d been cheating on me with my best friend for over half the relationship.”

Tony nodded. “Hence pushing Peter away.”

I couldn’t look at him.

“Okay, here’s the thing. I’ll let you go out on your own, disable the alarm thing, all of it. But-”

“If you tell me to tell him-”

“No, of course not,” Tony said, frowning. “I’m not evil. I am gonna make you talk to Ned about everything. Including your guys’ one night stand.”

“YOU HEARD THAT?”

“No! Jesus, kid, no, I would’ve drowned myself if I did, believe me,” Tony assured me, standing up and holding his hands out, like he was afraid I was about to explode. Honestly, if I’d exploded in that moment, it wouldn’t have surprised me. “Peter told me about it when we got back.”

“Why?”

Tony sighed. “I don’t think it’s really my place to tell you why. But, my point is, you should talk to Ned, because knowing you, you’re gonna want to keep this all bottled up inside and let it eat away at you.”

I realized how tense my shoulders were and let them drop. And then I could feel myself about to cry, my nose stinging. I blinked a few times, hoping I would be able to blink the tears away. Why the fuck was I being so goddamn _soft?_

“MJ, come here,” Tony said, coming around the table with his arms spread. I flinched away, so he dropped them.

“I don’t- I don’t get it,” I mumbled, wiping at my eyes.

“Get what?” he asked, his voice gentle.

I laughed. That was definitely a defence mechanism. “Any of it. I don’t know. It was, like, my body knew better than my brain or something. I don’t know.” And then there were tears streaming down my face.

“Yeah, stuff like this doesn’t normally have the decency to make sense.”

I laughed again, trying to pretend I wasn’t crying in the middle of the stupid goddamn workshop.

“Hey, kid, I know it’s rough. But promise me, even if it doesn’t work out with you and Peter-”

A gross, choked sob escaped me. “Fuck, I hadn’t even really thought of that.”

“What?”

“I hadn’t thought about outcomes. I just know that-that he…he doesn’t l-love me. And I just didn’t think about anything past that, like futures or being together or anything, because what’s the point, right?” I sniffled, looking down at the ground. “It’s not like I’m, like, loveable or anything.”

“Whoa, that’s not true, MJ,” Tony said, coming up to me and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Of course you’re loveable.”

I shook my head, biting my lip. “But I’m _such_ an asshole to him. He’s-he’s never gonna-”

“Okay, then, make amends,” Tony told me, squeezing my shoulders. “There’s nothing you could’ve done that’s so bad that he won’t at least hear you out.”

I sniffled, wiping my face dry with the heels of my hand. “I can’t fix this the way I want to, though.”

“MJ, I don’t think-”

I pulled away from him. “I’m gonna go to Ned’s or something. I’ll-I’ll see you later.” I refused to look at him as I walked away.

“Okay. Take care, kid. Have a good night.”

I grabbed my backpack and walked out of the base. As I was walking out of the building, Peter was walking in.

“Hey, Michelle, are you okay?” he asked, stepping in front of me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re crying.”

I forced myself to look up at him. Of course that asshole had the audacity to look all beautiful and concerned.

“Geez, Michelle, have you slept at all since we’ve been back?”

No, I couldn’t sleep, or eat, or do fucking anything. “I’m fine, Peter.” I dropped my gaze to the floor again.

“Alright, okay, you don’t wanna talk about it. Just, um, take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He stepped aside, and I could feel him watching me the whole way out to the car.

I turned on the most upbeat music I had on my phone and blasted it until my car was shaking, and then drove off. It didn’t make me feel any better.

I had to pull over twice on the drive home, just to scream. Just to pause my music, tip my head back against the headrest, and scream until my throat burned.

Why the fuck had I done this to myself? Why the fuck couldn’t I tell from the start that I was in love with Peter? Of course I was in love with him! And now I’d gone and fucked it up through months of being an absolute dick and distancing myself and, Jesus Christ, I’d even hooked up with him, and now I had no shot in hell and I was going to die alone.

He didn’t love me. He’d never love me. Why would he, of all people, love me? My parents only cared about my marks, and my siblings only really saw me as a babysitter, and Ned probably only hung out with me out of pity, and Alex had cheated on me, and Maria had fucked my boyfriend, and Tony only talked to me because he felt obligated, and Peter only spent time with me because Tony forced him to.

There were seven billion people on this Earth, and not a single one of them loved me.

Not even me.

I didn’t go to Ned’s. When I got home, I crawled into bed, and cried into my pillow until I fell asleep.

***

I spent the next week in school, alone, reading a book avoiding Ned, then going home and doing homework, and then patrolling until I was too tired to keep patrolling. And repeat, over and over again, until you can barely stand.

I got home one day and immediately collapsed on the couch.

“Yo, MJ, you good?” Jordan asked, coming out of his room.

I groaned.

“Dude, if you’re gonna have a mental breakdown, are you at least gonna tell me why?”

I rolled off the couch, landing on the ground hard. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You’ve been moody ever since you came back from Cali,” he pointed out, sitting down on the couch.

I pulled a throw pillow off the couch and covered my face with it. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“MJ-”

“Jordan, I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

He sighed. “You know, I noticed there haven’t been any sightings of Spider-Girl and Spider-Man together for a few days. Did something happen?”

“Shut up, Jordan.”

“Ooh, I’m right, aren’t I?”

I threw the pillow at him. He laughed, catching it and putting it back on the couch. “Nothing happened, asshole, I just needed some space. Plus, it’s better if we spread out, cover more of the city.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You sound like a white person in a horror movie.”

I scowled, getting up. “I’ll be in my room.”

I went into my room, pulled out my homework, and started to open my books, when my phone buzzed.

_Neddy Bear: hey I haven’t heard from you all week_

_Neddy Bear: is everything okay?_

I didn’t answer.

_Spider-Dork: hey ned’s worried about you_

_Spider-Dork: so are tony and may_

But he wasn’t. He didn’t fucking care.

He was doing a-okay. Every time I saw him in the halls, he was smiling with Ned. I didn’t need to worry about him.

And he wasn’t worried about me.

_Spider-Dork: if you’re gonna ignore me, turn off your read receipts at least_

I looked out my window. He was sitting on his fire escape, in the suit.

_Spider-Dork: michelle_

I opened my window. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I’m doing just dandy-”

He jumped over onto my fire escape, and leaned onto my windowsill, poking his head into my room. “Michelle, you’re avoiding everyone, and Tony’s super worried about you, and I don’t think I’ve seen your face in a week.”

“I’m in your chemistry class.”

“And yet somehow all I ever see is the back of your head.” He grabbed the mask at the top of his head and yanked it off. His curls flew up and fell back down, bouncing, and he blinked his eyes a couple times. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

I crossed my arms. “Everyone’s worried but you,” I told him, “and yet you’re the one who’s actually coming up and talking to me.”

He frowned. “Michelle, of course I’m worried, why else would I be here?”

“I don’t know, because everyone’s asking you to check in on me?”

“Nobody’s asking me to check in on you. Everyone’s asking me if I’ve heard from you because I live right across the alley from you and should be able to see you through my bedroom window.” I couldn’t tell if he looked annoyed or frustrated. Probably annoyed.

“Well, you can tell anyone who asks that I’m fine.”

He glanced around my room. I realized what a mess it’d become in the last few days. Art supplies and rogue sketchbooks were all over my floor, my desk was covered in homework, my clothes were stuffed into my dresser, and my comforter was balled up at the end of my bed.

“You’re normally a lot more organized than this.”

“Yeah? How would you know that?”

“You’re not the only observant one around.”

“Peter, you have the observational abilities of a brick wall.”

He looked at me. “Right, I forgot that only Vacation Michelle can be pleasant.”

“I forgot that only Vacation Peter could-” I cut myself off. I was resorting to being an asshole because I didn’t want to admit that he was right. That I wasn’t fine, that I normally was much neater, that this wasn’t me.

“What?”

“Never mind. Go patrol. I have homework.”

He frowned. “What did you say to Tony that got us separated?” he asked, tilting his head.

Jesus Christ, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything about that conversation, and I wanted Peter to come into my bedroom and hug me and tell me he loved me too and that someone, just one person, loved me, and that I’d be okay. I wanted to grab him and kiss him, like he’d kissed me in the hot tub.

But what happened in Cali stayed in Cali.

“He reviewed footage and decided I was ready,” I lied.

Peter shook his head. “Try again.”

I couldn’t tell him. Because as much as I wanted him to come in and hug me and kiss me and tell me he loved me, he wasn’t going to.

Because I wasn’t the kind of person people loved. I was harsh and reckless and cold and distant. And I was this stupid, stupid girl who was letting a boy ruin her happiness, or at least the illusion of contentment.

“I told him to separate us,” I admitted. That was the truth, and not a surprising one.

“Why?”

“I didn’t like patrolling with you.” That was true, too.

“Michelle, tell me the whole story.”

I sighed. “You told him we hooked up.”

Peter flinched, and looked at me, eyes wide, lips parted. “I-I- yeah.”

“The deal was that we told nobody. Not a soul.”

“Well, then, if we’re confessing sins, I told Ned, too,” Peter snapped.

“Great for you. I’m so glad you told the one person I explicitly made you promise not to tell. Get out.”

“What?”

“Put your mask on and get out of my room.”

His brows furrowed, but he pulled the mask back on, and started to pull back.

“Just, I don’t know, take care of yourself, Michelle. You know how to send a distress signal if you need me.”

“Whatever.”

He leaned back, out of my window, and I closed it immediately, closing my blinds, too. I heard the fire escape clatter a bit, and then it was silent.

And then the silence in my room was broken by my sobs.

***

Another week went by. I stopped sleeping entirely. All I did was homework, patrolling, and sketching. I went through a whole sketchbook, and half of them were drawings of Peter. The other half were…dark. A girl trapped at the bottom of a hole, with nobody to help her up. A girl laying, bleeding out, in an alley, with nobody to rescue her. A girl laying in a hospital bed, gunshot wound under her ribs, but the monitors and charts are blank, and nobody’s around.

I’d mastered the art of reading while walking back in 8th grade, so I started walking between classes with my nose in a book.

Unfortunately, this meant that Peter could easily grab me in the hall without me noticing him first and being able to evade him. Which is exactly what ended up happening. I was into another book that Tony had recommended, and all of a sudden, there was a hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me out of the hall and into an empty classroom. When I looked up, it was Peter.

“Hi,” I mumbled, slipping my bookmark between the pages and closing the book.

“Okay, I need you to just-just admit to me that something’s wrong.”

I frowned. “Peter-”

“I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on with you. You don’t even call me ‘Parker’ or ‘buttercup’ anymore. You barely even call me Peter, because you’re never around. You look like you haven’t slept since California. You got us separated. What’s going on?”

“I’m just not hanging out with you or Ned, that’s all it is.”

“Michelle, I haven’t seen you interact with another person in weeks.”

“Just because you haven’t seen it-”

He grabbed me, hands landing on my arms just above my elbows. “You’re scaring the hell out of us, Michelle. All of us. Tony, May, Ned, me. So just admit to me that you’re not okay.”

Tears were pooling in my eyes now.

“Michelle, don’t- please, don’t-”

I pushed him off. “I don’t think I’ve been okay in, like, two years, Peter, okay? Is that what you wanna hear? That my parents only care about me when I’m the perfect student, or when I can babysit for them? That everybody I care about couldn’t give less of a shit about me?” I shouted, tears falling down my face.

“What-what are you talking about?”

“You know why I didn’t have any friends sophomore year? Because my best friend fucked my boyfriend for four out of the six months I dated him. That’s why. That’s why I don’t fucking do relationships, I just talk to a million guys and do the occasional casual hook up and-and that works. There is no potential for getting hurt there. But goddammit, Peter, if I hadn’t have met you I could’ve kept doing this and been fine and I never would’ve had to-had to feel like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“God, you’re an idiot! Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you at all costs?”

He opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say.

“You did this to me. You-you made me want a relationship and-and I can’t even look at the stupid fucking guys I’ve been talking to. It’s ridiculous and I hate it and I want to stop loving you because I think it’s gonna kill me-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You said you want to stop loving me.”

I stopped, eyes wide. I sniffled. He was staring at me with those big, chocolate eyes, concern etched into all of his features.

“Michelle, what do you mean?”

I laughed, looking down, pulling the sleeve of my sweater over my hand and wiping my face. “I’m in love with you,” I whispered.

He was silent, and I couldn’t look up at him.

“Whatever. Fuck off. Bye.”

I pushed him aside so I could get to the door, and left the room, slamming the door behind me.

“MJ, MJ, whoa.”

It was Ned’s voice. God, I missed that voice.

I looked up, eyes still watery.

“Hey, Ned.”

“Why are you crying?”

“Ask Peter. I’m going home.”

I pushed past Ned and went to my locker, grabbing everything I was gonna have to catch up on, then went out to the parking lot and got into my car.

It was gross outside. It was December, and there was a layer of snow covering everything, and no matter where you went there was a stupid Christmas carol playing, and there were lights everywhere. I hated it. I hated everything.

I wish I hated everything, that’d make it so much easier.

I drove home, and went straight to bed, pulling my covers over myself and staring at the ceiling.

Now I’d done it. Whatever slim chance I’d had with Peter was gone. I’d yeeted it off the roof of the goddamn Empire State Building.

I stayed in bed, hating myself, for hours. I had the door locked, and earphones in, but nobody tried to bother me anyways.

Right. Because nobody cared. Not even my family.

I didn’t even have the energy to cry. I just needed to lay here and hate myself until everyone else went to bed. Then maybe I’d go down the block and get ice cream, or go to that Thai restaurant Peter and May liked, or find the hot dog place Peter and I went to once. Treat myself. I deserved it, right?

Around ten, there was a knock on my window.

I got up, pulling my earphones out. Peter was standing there, one hand on my windowsill, one behind his back. I sighed, opening the window.

“Hey.” My voice was smaller than what seemed possible.

“Hey, so, listen, I’ve got some explaining to do. Can you…come out here?” he asked.

“Uh, sure.”

I climbed out the window onto the fire escape.

He took a deep breath. “So, this is gonna sound like bullshit, but I need you to hear me out. I lived through an alternate reality where this big purple alien killed off half the universe, and it was all really awful, and…I was in the half that was killed, so I ended up in, like, limbo,” he rambled, “but limbo was living out more alternate timelines and how my future could’ve looked if I hadn’t died and…every time, Michelle, _every single time_ , you and I…we fell in love, and then I had to lose you. Over and over again for five years. And I knew-I knew it was fake, but it still…I still had to lose you, every time. And then the Avengers basically killed Thanos and brought everyone back, including me, and…there was this school trip. And I got to fall in love with you for real, and we went on dates in Europe and-and you called me pretty, and you were actually my girlfriend and I was so happy. And that’s how I know how you like your coffee, and what your favourite sandwich is, and that you’re always organized.” He was smiling, despite the tears pooling in his eyes. “Because I got to know you in another life.” He took another deep breath. “But then the time stone was destroyed, so things…reset. I ended up back on the bus with Ned before I went off to space- I know I’m not explaining this well, I just need to get through this- and when I came back you were…different. The MJ I knew only had two brothers, the twins, Caleb and Jordan, because her mom was killed when she was pregnant with Dora. And she’d never been in a relationship before, and she hadn’t dated anybody before, and she didn’t hate me.”

“I-I don’t hate you, Peter.”

He smiled again, tears starting to spill down his cheeks. “I thought you did. I thought that I’d managed to get knocked back into the one timeline where you hated me, and I didn’t know what to do because I hadn’t been through this yet, but it was awful because I’d lost you and hadn’t even…had you.”

“But you don’t love me. You love the me I was in another timeline.”

He shook his head. “But I don’t miss her. I don’t miss the things that made her different from you. I want you. Michelle, I love you.” He pulled flowers out from behind his back. They were buttercups. “You don’t have to-”

I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him. It was nothing like how we’d kissed in California. It was soft and slow and loving. His arms wrapped around me, one hand still holding the flowers. My one hand stayed on his chest, but my other slid around his neck. I melted against him, letting some of my weight fall onto him.

It didn’t fix everything. It didn’t fix how exhausted I was, or how awful I felt about my family, but it was a start. He loved me. If nothing else, I was loveable, in this timeline, and the next.

I slowly pulled away from the kiss, resting my forehead against his.

“I love you, too, buttercup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright kids so here's what's gonna happen next. i've made this into a series but the next part is just gonna be a fluff fic (maybe some??? angst but it'll always end in fluff) so you can either stop here or keep reading for the fluff ig
> 
> the fluff fic will update much slower than this one, just bc i'm working on like. uni apps, graduating, stuff like that. :)


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